Stolen Moments
by Caprican
Summary: In a world of chaos and war, the moments that build a lifelong passion and deep true love sometimes become lost. These moments, though, should be treasured above all. Rated for citrus in later chapters.
1. Before Year Four

**A/N: Hello all! I decided to try my hand at a little cannon romance, here is the result! I always felt like the Ron/Hermione romance was a little too sudden. I mean I don't blame J.K.R. (it was Harry's story after all...), but I was always curious about the moments that lead up to the happily ever after with our favorite sidekicks. How did they fall in love? What happened in the moments when Harry wasn't there with them? Is that when the true spark started? How close_ were_ Ron and Hermione before and/or during the Hrocrux hunt? In other words, what happened in those stolen moments that no one ever mentions? This is the result! Hope you enjoy! **

**Also, there will be some lemon/lime to this story, but I will always warn you before hand so those who are too young or are otherwise ill at ease can skip those sections/chapters.  
**

**Please review, I would love to hear your feedback!**

"You'd think with the amount of children this family has, they would at _least_ have a properly paved drive!" Mr. Granger complained under his breath as he made his way down the rutted country lane just west of Ottery-St. Catchpole.

"_Dad!_ I told you that they're car is running wild in the Forbidden Forest! They have no need for a 'proper drive'!" Hermione said, her excitement rising as she made out the hedge that marked the edge of the Weasley Property.

"And don't forget, John, that was also a flying car," Mrs. Granger said in a matter-of-fact tone so like the one often used by her daughter, holding onto the handle above the door for dear life as the car bounced down the road.

"Yes, well," he winced as the new Lexus hit another pothole sending them jarring once more into the air. He had long since given up on trying to understand some of the things that came out of his daughters mouth, but he always tried-even if talk of flying cars seemed a bit bonkers.

"There it is!" Hermione squealed excitedly as the crooked walls of the unnaturally tall and lopsided Burrow came into view. The morning light had just crept over the hills surrounding it giving the place an even more magical glow. Hermione could barely contain her excitement. She had missed Ron, Harry and Ginny so. She could barely believe her luck that her parents had actually agreed to let her come to stay for the rest of the summer holiday.

Chickens scattered as the car pulled up outside of the shed, terrified by the foreign noise. Something she didn't recognize, scurried about the haggle of wellington boots around the stoop. Soft whirs of magic sounded from inside the house. Hermione's smile broadened. The soft purr of the engine must have alerted the entire house of their presence because within moments, the whole of the Weasley clan were pouring out of the kitchen door with varying states of bedhead—save Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who looked wide awake.

Mr. Granger shut off the car smiling up at the sea of gingers that were gathered in front of the car. Mr. Weasley, he noticed, had already taken several steps forward and was closely examining the new car with a great gleam of curiosity in his eyes.

"Hermione!" shouted the youngest two redheads who both came rushing forward, though at seeing her, Ron stopped awkwardly blushing like mad. Ginny, however, greeted her with a warm hug looking incredibly happy to see the bushy haired brunette.

Hermione eagerly returned her hug and moved toward Ron, her arms still outstretched. Still blushing profusely, he held out his hand with a slight grimace. Hermione mirrored his blush and gave him an awkward handshake before being engulfed in hugs from the rest of the Weasley Clan.

Mrs. Granger watched the exchange with a small smile on her lips, briefly catching the eye of Ron's Mum and sharing a knowing look with her.

"Jean, John, do come in for a spot of breakfast before you head back," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping the flour from her apron in attempt to make herself a little more presentable.

"We would love to, Molly, but we really only have the morning off," Mrs. Granger said apologetically.

"I am sorry that we couldn't have come to fetch her, Jean, but with taking off for the World Cup—"

"That's quite alright, we don't mind." Mrs. Granger cut her off laying a hand on the older woman's arm.

"I just wish the road was a little less rough..." Mr. Granger winced under his breath.

"Percy!" Mr. Weasley beckoned. "Didn't your Mum ask you o fix those ruts last night?" He wasn't yelling, but the disappointment that showed on his face made the other Weasleys and the Grangers look away uncomfortably.

"Er..." Percy began.

"It's really not a prob—" Mr. Granger said embarrassed that his comment had been heard.

Mr. Weasley cut him off by moving forward and waving his wand lazily toward the lane. Immediately the ruts popped up, gravel that had been buried rumbled to the surface so that within minutes, the road looked as if it had been newly laid. Not wanting to make a scene, Mr. Weasley simply smiled back at the Grangers, ignoring his son's mumbled protests about being busy with work. "There you are! Should be smother on your way out!" He turned giving Hermione's arm a warm squeeze. "It _is_ good to see you Hermione. Molly I really must be off to work."

Molly nodded, giving her husband a ppeck on the cheek.

Aurthur nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, sending one last look at the fantastic muggle car before disapparating with a pop.

"Thank you, Molly!" Mrs. Granger embraced her only daughter. "No, you will write before you board the train and owl us about the holidays?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in a rarely seen display of teenage embarrassment. "Yes, Mum."

"We love you sweetheart!"

With a few more genial goodbyes, The Grangers returned to their car and made their way down the now smooth lane and back towards the muggle world.

As soon as the car disappeared around the bend, the group began to meander back towards the house. "Come now, dear, you look like you could use a spot of breakfast before what is sure to be a thrilling day of quidditch," Mrs. Weasley said genial putting her arm around her surrogate daughter.

Hermione, however, barely heard her. Her eyes were scanning the cluttered kitchen for the familiar face of Ron. In the past, when they had spent time together without Harry, things had been comfortable if not full of slight squabbles about one thing or another. But the sight of a now taller and more muscular Ron had made her blush more than ever. Nerves filled her at the prospect of an entire week with him without Harry. However, for now it seemed that her nerves were for naught. The boy she had spent a good part of the summer thinking and dreaming about had vanished inside the house and seemed to have gone back upstairs without so much as a followup hello to his awkward handshake.

Ron barely made it up to his room before he heard the first creaks of the kitchen door and rumble of talk as the rest of his family entered the house behind him. He held his breath, hoping that his brothers—namely Fred and George—wouldn't notice his sudden absence. All he needed was a moment, just a moment to process the sea of feeling that had washed over him the second he saw one Hermione Granger. A moment, that is, away from everyone that would use his annoyingly red ears and blushed cheeks (those traitors) to tease him senseless.

A breath escaped his lips as he heard no telltale footsteps following him. He slumped onto what was soon to be Harry's camp bed in a weeks time and ran his hands through his long shaggy locks.

What the bloody hell had happened? One moment, Hermione was nothing more than a bushy haired book worm with an annoying tendency to nag about homework, then, one and a half months later, she was –well he had no doubt that she was still addicted to books, nothing could change that—but now she had breasts? And were those hips? For once in his life he was praising muggles for their fashionable tight tank tops and short shorts. Her smooth legs had to be five miles long! Lord knows he hadn't seen her in anything but robes in ages. What had she been hiding all those years? Her hair was even slightly tamed and pulled into a loose pony tail up and off of her tan skin. It was liberally streaked with blond highlights that almost made her glow. Summer, all in all, had been good to Hermione.

Very good.

_Stop it!_ He tried to reason with himself. _That is Hermione Granger you are thinking about sliding her legs around you and running her hands through your hair and feeling those incredibly plump soft lips— STOP!_ "Bloody Hell!" He said aloud, cursing the tent in his too short pajama trousers. _She is your friend! _He berated. _Not to mention that she is probably pining after Harry!_ Every girl pined after Harry. He tried to choke off the wave of jealously at the thought. After all why would anyone in their right minds chose him over the famous, rich boy-who-lived? He shook his head trying to rid himself of the murderous thoughts about his best friend. _Now get yourself showered and go down there and treat her like the nerdy know-it-all that she is! _

With that pep talk, he got up grabbed his clothing out of his wardrobe and made his way to the washroom, grateful that for once it was blessedly vacant.

Breakfast dishes were being cleaned up by the time Ron finally made his appearance in the kitchen freshly dressed and washed. As soon as he spotted her he felt the red in his ears betray him once more. Taking a deep Breath, he came down the last few steps.._ Smooth_, he told himself, _just be smooth. _He tried to slide into his seat across from Hermione without being noticed, but unfortunately caught a wrinkle in the rug with his toe at the edge of the kitchen, falling in a heap painfully into one of the chairs.

"Oh my gosh, Ron!" Hermione said, rushing to the his side. "Are you alright?"

He cursed under his breath, much to the laughter of Charlie, Bill, Fred and George. "With feet like those it is a miracle that he can even walk!" Ginny quipped.

"Bugger off, Gin—" Ron began.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"Mrs. Weasley scolded. "If I ever hear you say that word again! I swear!"

"Yeah, Ronnie," Fred smiled looking at his brother said with mock consternation.

"Plus Gin is right you know," George added. "Bout as sneaky as Hagrid—"

"—on roller skates—" Fred added.

"—trying to do a waltz-"

"-while drunk."

Everyone save Hermione and Mrs. Weasley laughed loudly. Ron's face got red as he jumped to his feet, roughly righted the chair and sat in it ignoring Hermione's outstretched hand.

"Actually, your feet being big is not a bad thing, Ronald. Did you know that in general, a boy's feet don't stop growing until the growth plates fuse about five years after puberty begins? They will stop growing at about two years before you reach your full height. So having big fee is just a sign that you are going to be quite tall. Probably the tallest of all your—"

"Shut it, Hermione!" Ron said, his ears burning with embarrassment at the mention of Puberty in front of his entire family. _Yep, same old Hermione_, he thought with slight relief.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Hermione's face went scarlet. Well, all hopes that Ron had grown out of being an insensitive prat were lost.

He said nothing as he was about to help himself to a large link of smoked sausage in front of him along with a pile of eggs. Fork poised to dig into his late breakfast, he cried out as his food suddenly disappeared. "Hey! What are you playing at?"

Snickers went up around the table as Mrs. Weasley turned around brandishing her wand at her son threateningly. "With the language you just used, you should be glad that all you are missing is Breakfast!" Her angry look made him cower slightly as he pouted at her. "Now I suggest you all find something to do before I find something for you to do!" She said to the rest of the table at large.

Feeling slightly cowed by his Mother's scolding, Ron got up and joined Hermione and Ginny as they trudged outside and into the garden. With his fuse unbearably short, he found it much easier to talk to Hermione. Thankfully, his apologetic look seemed to suffice for his outburst at her, so he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked by her in silence until they reached the pond, listening to her chatter with Ginny about her summer in the muggle world. Allowing himself to zone out for a few minutes, he barely heard his name when a question was finally directed at him.

"Ron?" Hermione said, waving her hand in front of his face. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"What?" He said snapping back to reality.

"I asked if you had heard form Harry or not?"

And there it was. Of course she wanted to know about Harry. Not about his summer, but about Harry. He again tried to choke off the sudden surge of jealousy that tried to rake his hormonal adolescent brain before he answered. "Not much. Just enough to hear that he will be down in a week so we can all go the the World Cup."

"Oh that will be great!" Hermione said, smiling happily.

As talk started up once more, Ron again let his thoughts wander, trying hard to ignore the confusing feelings he was having about both his friends. In the end, he decided that it wasn't worth the worry and put the thoughts aside, instead shooing Ginny away and starting up a conversation about Sirius Black and their adventures the year previous. After an hour of normal bickering with the brainy girl, all awkwardness was gone.

For the time being at least.


	2. Grimwauld Place

**A/N: Quick thanks to my reviewers, ObsessedRHShipper and Triacletart! Mucho appreciado to your kind words! I present to you another chapter! **

**Slight Lime alert on this one, guys! If you're too young, take a pass on this one! **

Light broke through the moth-eaten curtains of number twelve Grimwauld Place, making a speckled pattern over the snoring form of Ron. Hermione couldn't help herself as she let her eyes rake over every inch of exposed flesh. The boy was looking more and more delicious every time she saw him. Now especially, with his long red hair all tousled and his face scrunched up with sleep. His once lanky form was now carved with newly acquired muscles and his once too large feet were supporting a tall frame that towered over almost everyone in their year. Only having worn boxers to bed, she could clearly see his toned abs where the covers had slipped to just below his belly button. She could feel her mouth water and a blush rise on her skin as she continued lower to the barely hidden part of his body before she snapped her eyes shut.

_You are here to simply wake him up, Hermione,_ she scolded herself, _not to drool over him._

She gently reached over and shook his arm, trying to ignore the feel of his warm skin that was sending sparks thought her body. He didn't stir. She shook a little harder. "Ron!" she almost squeaked.

With wide eyes, he sat bolt up in bed, brandishing his pillow in front of him like a wand. "Whassamatter!"

Hermione couldn't help it, she let out a tiny girlish giggle.

Turning to her, Ron suddenly realized his state of undress and pulled the covers up turning bright red. "Bloody hell, Hermione!" he shouted. "What are you doing in here!"

"I came to get you for breakfast!" she laughed, glad for a distraction from her previous thoughts. "What were you going to do curse me with your pillow?"

A year ago such a jibe would have been laced with a condescending tone. Now, the playfulness simply caused a reaction in his body that made him wish he were wearing more clothes, or she were wearing less. Her smile gave him goosebumps these days. Things had changed a lot since after the Yule Ball.

"I could beat you with a pillow!" he joked, feigning indignation. "Vastly underestimated weapon, pillows."

Hermione's eyebrow quirked at his banter. This new side of Ron was puzzling and intriguing. "Really?" she said doubtfully.

Without saying another word, Ron swung the pillow hard and hit her hard across the shoulder, knocking her sideways onto the vacant bed across from him. "See?" he smirked.

The look of shock on her face was priceless causing him to laugh heartily; but it only took her a moment to recover. Her face broke into a mischievous smile worthy of Fred and George. "So that's the challenge is it?" Hermione said, digging out a spare pillow.

Ron stood, forgetting his previous modestly and stood. "If you think you can take me!" he said tossing his pillow back and forth between his hands like a chaser taunting a keeper. Both began to walk in slow circles devilish grins twisted with playful anticipation on who would strike first.

Suddenly, Hermione let out a girlish yip and launched herself pillow first at her adversary. Ron jumped up in surprise, dodging her hit and returning it with his own. It took her a few swipes to actually hit him, but after a few moments trying she managed to hit him hard enough in the chest that he toppled backwards onto the bed. White and gray feathers burst from her (well to be precise, Harry's) pillow and she let out a whoop of victory. The only problem was that she over estimated her momentum and fell onto his bare chest laughing.

"I win!" she chimed, between gasping laughs.

Suddenly, Ron flipped her over, using the pillow on her chest to pin her to the bed, her arms at her sides. "Not a chance!" he said looking down at her still laughing at the shocked look on her face, their eyes locking for this first time. She looked gorgeous, her cheeks all flush, bits of feathers stuck in her now half falling out pony tail. _I could just reach down and kiss her, _his brain though numbly, his eyes flicking to her parted lips.

Ron's state of undress combined with their combined heavy breathing had both of them realizing at the same moment, just how intense their previously light situation had become. Hermione could barely think as she marveled in the feel of Ron's weight on her, nestled between her legs with her arms pinned. The world seemed to stop as she became lost in his gray blue eyes. She wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her. So, with all the Gryffindor courage she could muster, she whispered, "Ron?" Her voice sounded unnatural to her ears, like it didn't belong to her.

"Yeah?" His voice was low and husky as his eyes moved once more between her lips and her eyes. He nervously licked his own lips wishing he had paid more attention when the twins had talked about how girls liked to be kissed.

"Would you..." she continued, watching as his tongue darted over his mouth and trembling slightly.

"Yeah?" He was already lowering his head in response.

From somewhere outside the door, a noise dangerously close to the door of the room broke through the tiny bubble that seemed to have formed around them, causing Hermione to briefly remember the fact that at any given time there were at least fifteen people in the house that could find them like this. Her eyes widened in panic just as his closed. He was only millimeters away. "Would you..." she started again, "get off?"

The effect was immediate as his body froze, their lips a breath apart. A look of great disappointment crossed over both of their faces. Ron immediately got up and held the pillow modestly over his boxers. Cursing his fifteen-year-old body's reaction to the witch in front of him. "Sorry," he mumbled, his face burning as she began to straighten her hair and clothes nervously swiping at feathers.

"I'll just—" she motioned to the door.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a bit..."

Without another word, she exited the room.

* * *

Ron collapsed onto the bed, hiding his hands in his face, trying to ignore the painful strain in his boxers. It was harder to be with her this summer than the previous one. She had become more and more beautiful throughout their fourth year and now, having felt her legs on either side of his, with those gorgeous brown eyes looking back at him...wanting him... He groaned and giving up trying to settle down reached into his underwear, knowing that if he didn't than being next to her all day would be nearly impossible, especially considering that their speaking terms with Harry were still shaky at best.

He let the idea of her lips pressed against his with breasts flush against his chest fill his mind as he ran his hands over himself. His skin could still remember the feel of her denim encased legs on either side of his, the heat of her core reaching him even though they hadn't touched. His hand moved faster as he saw her lips part as he lay atop her, not struggling, but seemingly happy beneath him. A tightening grabbed him as his imagination opened the door of how good it would feel to have those lips wrapped around him, licking him...

…_so close... _

"Ron?"

_...he even thought he could hear her, calling his name..._

"Ron!" Hermione shouted again, annoyed with his lack of response.

_...she wanted him...she was saying his name..._

Without warning, Hermione opened the door.

A yelp of surprise escaped his mouth as he heard the creak of the door and saw the wide eyed object of his imaginings.

_To late!_

His face contorted in embarrassed ecstasy as he came into his hand while at the same time trying to cover himself with a blanket. His buried his face in his pillow when he knew she had seen...

"Oh Merlin!" He heard her squeak, slamming the door behind her.

Wanting to curl up and die, he screamed into the surviving pillow at the top of his lungs. Instinctively, he knew that Hermione wouldn't say anything to anyone else, but Merlin, she had _seen_! He didn't know if he could or would ever look at her in the same way again. He had resigned himself to getting up and gathering his clothes so he could head to the washroom, fully intent on returning to his room and never looking at her again, when there was another knock on the door. "Just a second!" He shouted, pulling on his pajama pants and a t-shirt with a curse.

Before he even had the chance to give the okay to open the door, his second visitor of the morning had already let himself in. Ron let out a sigh of relief at seeing Harry closing the door instead of Fred or George.

"Hey, your Mum wants you, we are about to tackle the curtains in the dining room today and she needs all three of us to—" Harry stopped mid sentence, however as he glimpsed the redness of his friend and his slightly sweaty demeanor-not to mention the fact that the room was covered in feathers.

Ron scurried to his trunk and began rummaging around for a clean pair of socks, trying hard not to look at his best mate.

"What the hell happened in here?" Harry asked, a slightly bemused expression on his face.

Sparing him a small glance, Ron replied, "What?"

"Feathers?" Harry said, plucking up a handful from the bed. This was the closest he had come to smiling full on in weeks.

"Oh...er..." Ron stammered. "I...er...threw a pillow against the wall in my sleep..." _That sounded logical_, he thought. "Yeah."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared farther into his hairline. "Riiiiiight," he said skeptically. "Did something _else_ happen?"

"No, not at all! Why?" Maybe he had been wrong, maybe Hermione had said something.

"Well, because Hermione just came down and fetched me to fetch you and insisted that I knock several times before I entered."

Ron's face went a shade of purple that Uncle Vernon would have admired. "Did she?" his voice cracked traitorously.

A smile broke across Harry's face. "Is there something you were wanting to tell me, mate?"

At that, Ron attempted to stand and rammed his head on the lid of the trunk causing it to close painfully on his neck. "_Fuck!_" he cursed loudly. _Talk about adding injury to insult_, he thought mutinously.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, now fighting the urge to laugh. Whatever caused both his friends to be this embarrassed he was sure the twins would give their right hands to know.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron shouted and without another word, he stormed from the room, leaving a string of curses in his wake.

Harry watched him go, a bemused soft of exspression playing across his face. With conviction, he promised himself that he wouldn't ask either of his friends what had happened. If it was bad enough to make two of the mouthiest people he knew speechless, he probably didn't want to know. He made his way back towards the dining room to tell the rest of those waiting to start without Ron. A few moments of privacy was the least he could do for both of his flustered best friends.


	3. After the DA Meeting

**A/N: Hello again! I'm so pleased with the welcome this story is getting I have decided to update again! Yay! My appologies that this one is a bit shorter. It is actually a recent addition (I have most of the story written, but decided to go back and add this part). I was having a little trouble with year five. There isn't a whole lot outside of the Harry Angst in the book and Ron and Hermione being supportive, so I couldn't find a lot to go on. Anyway, here it is! installment numero tres!**

**Thank you for all of your reviews! I regret that due to a high fever I will not thank all of you by name until the next chapter. A big thank you to all of you who _did_ review! Your words fuel my soul! Keep 'um coming and I will do the same!**

**Without further ado...  
**

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she slowly eased the door to the Room of Requirement closed, glimpsing a sprig of mistletoe forming just over Cho Chang's head as the door snapped shut. She couldn't help but let out a sigh of envy. Sure it had taken Harry five years to ask Cho out, but at least the boy was persistent. Ron, on the other hand, was as stubborn as ever. Even after what had happened at Grimwauld Place that summer, he remained resolutely distant. She let out a deep sigh as she turned following the boy in question.

"If we take the third floor passage and then down that long corridor by the fifth floor I think we should be okay," Ron muttered, studying the Marauder's Map for any signs of teachers, members of the inquisitorial squad, or Filch.

Hermione nodded absentmindedly, hugging her copy of _Advanced Defensive Magic_ to her chest as they walked. "Weren't they sweet?" She asked absentmindedly.

Ron looked up from the map to look at her. He had to force himself to answer, she looked do lovely in the dim light of the corridor. "Who?" he asked, forcing himself to focus.

She hit him on the shoulder with her book causing him to jump slightly. "Harry and Cho!"

"What about them?"

"What do you mean, 'What about them?'?" she asked annoyed. "Did you not see the way they were looking at each other during the meeting?"

In all honesty, he hadn't been paying a lick of attention to his best friend and the girl he fancied at all during the evening. All he could recall was how fiercely beautiful Hermione looked as she cast her spells with deadly accuracy. "I didn't notice I guess."

"I think he's going to ask her out tonight," Hermione stated boldly causing Ron to nearly walk into a suit of armor that was singing Christmas carols in a loud and out of tune manner.

"Blimey, you think so?" he asked. "Never mentioned it to me!"

"Now why would he do that, Ron! Harry is a rather private person when it comes to things like this. I bet he's been working up his courage on this all year!"

"Well, I'd have told him."

Hermione quirked her eyebrow in intrigue. "Oh?"

"Well, yeah! He's my best mate!"

"So you tell Harry _everything_?"

He looked up at her in surprise, "For the most part."

"You don't tell me everything!"

"That's different!"

"How so?" her voice was raised in indignation.

"Because—well—your a _girl_!"

"What does that have to do with anything at all?"

By this point her voice had grown quite a bit louder and Ron was looking around nervously. "Hermione!" He whined. "Will you _please _ keep it down? I just would rather tell some things to Harry alone! Its just bloke stuff, you know? Its nothing personal against you!" He was unsure how they had gotten into this particular argument, but he was keen to end it and soon. He thought he could almost make out the sound of voices just around the bend.

Looking down he consulted the map just in time to see Goyle and Malfoy just around the corner. Without hesitating he pulled Hermione into the closest classroom, holding her close to his chest and covering her mouth with his hand. For a moment, she struggled, until she heard the voiced on the other side of the door come and then pass away.

Releasing her, Ron let out a sigh of relief. "Blimey, that was close." He was in the right mind to tell her to keep her voice down, but thought better of it seeing as she seemed ready to let the squabble die out. Times where it was just he and Hermione were few and far between and he would rather not spend them fighting with her about mundane things.

Hermione nodded, sitting on top of the worn teacher's desk with her hand over her heart.

"D'you think we should hold out for a bit," he asked, taking a seat beside her, "you know, to make sure they're gone?"

Hermione plucked the map out of Ron's hands and examined it. Goyle and Malfoy were just down the hall apparently still, looking around for the source of noise in the quiet night. She cursed her self for almost getting them in trouble. With Umbridge on the prowl, the consequences for being caught out of bed were far worse than they had been—especially with someone of the opposite sex. "I think that might be wise."

Everything in the room seemed to mute as she flicked her wand at the door, casting a imperturbable charm keep the two cronies from investigating the classroom. Hermione could feel Ron's presence next to her, warm and alive, making her blood seem to boil. He had become so handsome. Even if he was still slightly awkward. Just being next to him was driving her slightly batty. She needed a distraction. Anything, just something quick and convenient. "So...?" she began, cursing herself for not being able to think of anything.

"So, what?"

_Come on, Granger, think!_ She urged herself. "Do you think he will kiss her or just ask her on a date?" _Oh that's great!_ _To take your mind off of snogging, you bring up the fact that your best friend might be doing just that?_ She chastised herself in her head.

Ron looked dumbfounded. "Er..." Ron hesitated. "I guess he'd better do the second one first don't you?"

"Oh, I dunno, I think it would be kind of romantic."

A smile stretched at the corner of Ron's mouth. He had never seen Hermione like this before and he was quite enjoying it. "You would like it if Harry Potter just jumped without even asking you out?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with horror at the thought of kissing Harry. He was like a brother to her! That had not been the road she had been wanting at all. "What? No! I don't—I mean—with _Harry—_that would be so—I don't know—_ew!_" She stammered.

Ron laughed. "Easy for you to say!"

She smacked him with her book, blushing madly. "I just meant that it might be okay for me—if the moment were right—for a guy to just—you know—kiss me. Then he could ask me out." This time he definitely got the drift. She could see it in his eyes.

Neither said anything following her declaration. Both were well aware of how close they were to one another and how very nice they felt in the cool and utterly deserted classroom. The sounds of Malfoy and Goyle had long sense disappeared from the corridor, yet neither seemed willing to move at all.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

Ron hesitated for only a moment gathering his courage once more. Leaning in quickly he tried capture her lips only to be met with bushy brown hair instead of soft lips. A noise from the corner of the room that proved to be nothing more than a precariously piled stack of books falling over had drawn her attention at exactly the wrong moment. He pulled back, but not before she noticed.

"Were you just smelling my hair, Ronald?" Hermione asked, not sure if she should be aghast or flattered.

"What? No, no of course not!" he said, cursing his ears for going an incriminating shade of red.

She looked at him with appraising eyes, full of amusement. "We should get back."

Confusion interrupted his thoughts. He had been on the verge of a second attempt when her words reached him. "What?"

She brandished the map. "I think they are gone—Malfoy and Goyle—and it's really quite late and we will be missed if we don't leave now."

Ron nodded, letting her lead him out into the deserted corridor, sure that he had the worst timing in the history of bad timing.


	4. Poison and Frgiveness

**A/N**** Alright guys, I know some of you were a little upset by the almost kiss in the last chapter. Sadly this one will have no action either. Rest assured, though! It is coming and soon (pun intended ;-)). This one is more about healing wounds made during their sixth year, which I think could possibly be just as important as the physical bits. Hope you enjoy!**

**Big thanks to all of those who have read, reviewed, favorited, and/or set me and/or my story to your watch lists. You guys keep me going and I appreciate you! I would name you all by name (like I started to do in earlier chapters...) but there are a few more than their were. Trust me, you are no less appreciated now than then. I am just lazy. Still, THANK YOU!  
**

**Without further ado...  
**

Dropping hints hadn't worked. Being nice hadn't worked. So she had tried to play it cool, be aloof. It had worked for Ginny. She could see it in Harry's eyes. The boy was starting to _adore _the slight redhead he had taken so little interest in previously. Why, then, was the standoffish behavior she was projecting not working on Ron? It seemed like it was going to work. Then the confusion with the Felix Felicis and his anger at her and now he was with that, that—_tramp_! It was enough to make her want to spit in outrage.

She sighed and pulled out a quill and started in on her homework—a four foot long essay on the cuciatus curse due next Tuesday for Professor Snape. The library was cool and quiet in the evenings, just crisp enough to keep you awake but not cool enough to make you shiver. A constant refuge and escape, it made Hermione feel a little better and seemed the only place she could find any peace. Probably because it was the one place that Ron and Lavender avoided like the plague. There were no quiet corners to snog here, no. Just studying and books and learning. Opening up one of the large tomes, she began to read, occasionally taking a note or two before turning the page. One good thing about not talking to Ron, she didn't have him pestering her for help with every little thing. It definitely made homework go by a lot faster.

_Ugh! Why can't I stop thinking about him!_ she rebuked herself. _I just need to study! _So she refocused her attention to her work.

After a long while, she looked at her watch. The time was half past seven. Harry should have been in to work on his assignment at seven. He had told her he was going to go straight up to Gryffindor Tower after quidditch practice and then meet her. It was unlike him to be late. Her essay was almost finished. If he didn't show soon...

_Maybe he's off snogging Ginny and lost track of time,_ she thought morosely. The thought made her gut twist. If Harry started to spend all his time with Ginny and Ron was spending all of his time with Lavender, she would have nothing _but_ free time to study. Not too long ago, Hermione would have loved the extra time alone. Now, however, it was simply depressing. It meant that she was_ alone. _She was ALL alone! No friends, no boyfriend, nothing. After having Harry and Ron around almost nonstop, the idea seemed simply dreadful. She wanted to see Harry happy and all, but it would be so much easier to be happier for him if she weren't so damn _miserable!_

Before she knew it, a tear dropped onto her half finished essay causing the ink to smear. _What am I doing?_ she scolded herself. _There's no use in feeling sorry for yourself! Harry just probably forgot. He is under a lot of pressure! What with Ron and I, Ginny, getting the memory from Slughorn, lessons with Dumbledore..._

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?"

As discretely as she could, she wiped her eyes before looking up to see the stern faced Professor McGonagall wearing a strangely tight look. The color immediately drained from Hermione's face. She knew that look. It was never good. "Yes, Professor?"

"Could you please come with me?"

She hesitated, stealing herself for what was to come. "Is something wrong, Professor?"

"I'm afraid so, if you would follow me?" Hermione made to repack her books. "Leave them. I will send someone for them later."

Her dread growing, Hermione followed the woman in the direction of the hospital wing.

* * *

He could see her, smiling at him as she sat down on one of the puffy red clouds that seemed to be floating throughout his delirium. Odd, he didn't remember there being any red cloud things at Hogwarts. He shrugged, smiling, reflecting the bemused smile on her face. She always had that dopey look on her face. Even when it wasn't appropriate, he realized. She wasn't gorgeous, but she was a good snog—especially when she wasn't giving him ridiculous gifts or calling him 'Won-Won'.

Moving forward, he tripped and was suddenly falling. Wait, not falling exactly, more like leisurely descending through the red clouds. It was like watching a reverse sunset where the clouds lost their color instead of gaining it. Suddenly, they turned white, and he saw in them the faces of everyone he knew. Just floating in the clouds, happy, like he was. They were cheering as his feet gently touched the ground.

He looked down at himself. Black dress robes, he was wearing black dress robes, like Harry's. New and crisp with a flower in the button hole. All the clouds that were his friend's faces were spread out before him. Watching with smiling faces. They all seemed so happy for him. He was the focus for all their attention. That is, until music played. Then everyone looked down—was that an aisle?— towards the most beautiful site he had ever seen.

She was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen, draped in light blue and white fabric that seemed to just float off of her like the vapor that the was their guests. Gentle curls cascaded down and over her shoulders. Her smile lit up the room as she glided towards him. He feared that he might die from happiness that she was look at him like that.

The visions of red clouds and Lavender were forgotten. This woman was the only one who could ever make him happy.

But she was too far away! He could barely make out her face, though she seemed so familiar.

The cloud that was his Mother started to cry, sending rain all over the ground.

He started to panic. If it rained, the woman might not come. She would get all wet and it would be his fault! He couldn't stop the rain.

In his rising panic, Ron took his eyes off the woman, searching for a bucket to put under his Mum. She was going to ruin this! He couldn't let her. The rumble of talk broke out at his concern. He could here Harry talking.

He couldn't find a bucket. It was going to be ruined.

Then he felt her, smelled her. She smelled of moonlight and books and strawberry shampoo. Her hand was warm, pulling him back from the edge of his anxiety. She was crying prettily beneath her veil—_Veil! That's why I couldn't see her!_ he thought. All panic left him, replaced by a sudden sense of giddy happiness.

With one hand still clamped in hers, he lifted her veil with the other.

What he saw took his breath away.

His voice seemed too weak. It took an enormous amount of effort to make it work, but he had to. He had to speak for her, let her know he knew her. Let her know that it was _always_ her.

"Her-my-nee!" he croaked.

A smile spread across her lovely face as she squeezed his hand even harder, happy tears pally off her cheeks.

The woman was her.

Hermione...

* * *

_Therefore, the ratio of shredded unicorn horn must be three times as much as half the allotted infusion of horklump juice and exploding ginger eyelash. _Hermione dotted the last period of the last sentence of her essay feeling more than a little pleased. The work was some of her best and she did it without consulting a ruddy written in piece of junk book unlike _some_ people she knew.

"Ughh..."

Hermione looked lazily over the top of her essay, as she flicked her wand muttering a spell check charm. As she suspected, he was just muttering in his sleep. She shook her head, smiling at the memory of him saying her name in his sleep. Looking over her essay, she swore at how many misspelled words flashed red at her as she began tapping her wand over them.

"Did I really just hear Hermione Granger swear?" Ron said in an amused, if groggy, voice.

Hermione jumped, her finished essay falling off her lap closely followed by a book that scrunched it with a deafening crunch. He half expected her to scold him for making her wrinkle her work. Instead, she jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around him. Bewildered, he hugged her back, smiling happily.

"Ron, you scared me half to death!" she said, tears falling annoyingly down her face.

"Jeez, 'Mione," he said giving her another squeeze. Something about her made him smile, something from a dream he couldn't grasp...

"And I spent all that time being mad at you because of Lavender, and you could have been dead!"

He smiled at the strong resemblance her words bore to his mother's words to Fred and George after the quidditch world cup not more than two years previous. "Does this mean you aren't mad at me anymore?" He asked quietly into her hair.

Her nod was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

"Thanks," he whispered, not realizing how much her anger had hurt him or just how much her forgiveness could heal.

They were quiet for a long time, he just held her, marveling at how perfect she felt. She smelled of moonlight, books, and strawberries. He remembered earlier that year feeling terrified of her, knowing that anything with Hermione would be heavy and solid. Not frivolous like Lavender. Even though he had been so sure he had wanted her physically before, this year brought with it the blinding fact that things with her would never be _just_ physical. It had frightened him into lashing out at the slightest provocation and clinging to the nearest distraction. Now as he brushed his fingers through her curly locks, he couldn't help but marvel at how perfect she felt to him. Lavender, though pretty in her own right, held no torch to Hermione.

Something had changed.

All too soon, however, she pulled away. Her face downcast, not angry, but sad all the same. "Well, I should probably go," Hermione said, sitting up and moving to get her things in order.

His arms mourned the loss. "Why?"

She seemed to search for a reason, as if she wanted to be held by him as much as he wanted to hold her. "Harry will want to know that you are up."

"Oh, yeah, of course," he said, nodding in disappointment.

"Not to mention that I don't think 'Lav-Lav' would like seeing me hugging her 'Won-won'," she said, ire dripping off of every syllable.

A pang of regret lanced through his heart at her jibe. He cringed. "I bet Cormac won't much like you being here either..." he ventured, picking idly at a loose thread on one of his sheets.

She paused for a moment. "Actually, we aren't seeing each other anymore," the admission was soft, but it warmed his heart.

"Oh?" his voice sounded a little too hopeful, even to himself.

"No, I don't take well to blokes who makes my best mate's life difficult when his best mate's laid up in the hospital," she responded, never actually looking up to see the satisfied look on his face.

"So he's been playing keeper in my place?"

"Ha! If by playing, you mean disrupting every practice and ensuring that everyone is secretly planning to slip poison in _his_ drink, then yes!"

He laughed aloud at that. "Wow, 'Mione! Swearing and then sarcasm? Did I slip into another universe?"

"Oh, ha ha!"

Silence fell punctuated by the sounds of Hermione muttering shrinking spells on the ten books she was packing into her bag. When at last she was pulling the satchel closed, he found his voice again.

"Hermione?" he asked quietly.

Her bag was already over his shoulder and her back turned. If she hadn't froze, he would have sworn she hadn't heard him. But after a few moments, she replied. "Yes, Ron?" Her voice was just as soft as his, just as vulnerable.

"I missed you."

A long moment passed, he held his breath, hoping that she wouldn't crush the simple gesture in the way he knew he deserved.

Before she could say anything, though, he added, "I'm sorry."

She turned her head, a sparkle dancing behind her brown eyes-_was that hope?_ he wondered. "Me too," she mutter, then quickly ran from the hospital wing.


	5. Obliviate and Sate, well, almost

**A/N: Wow...okay, so this is my longest chapter ever. So long, in fact that I considered splitting it. But seeing as you guys have been so awesome with your reviews and it wouldn't make sense structurally to split it, HUZZAH! Behold! This is probably my fluffiest chapter yet. There is slight citrus at the end, but nothing past rated R. but if you're too young hid your eyes after the last break! **

**Huge chapter! Without further ado...  
**

_Tap, tap, tap!_

Ron looked up instantly from his copy of _Advanced Cosmetic Transfiguration on Non-Human Bipeds._ His attention to reading such a dry school book was minimal at best even when he was under the pressure of making a grade. Now, he could barely keep his eyes open. The importance of him getting the transfiguration on the ghoul correct was astronomical. If the ministry didn't believe it was him, then things wouldn't only backfire on he, Hermione, and Harry, but on his whole family as well. Needless to say the pressure had never been greater for him to absorb more than the bare minimum of knowledge.

If only the words didn't look backwards on the page.

With a heavy sigh he stood and walked over to the window to let in a normal looking barn owl. It flew to his dresser, took a few gulps of water from Pig's dish and held out its leg to Ron with a highly impatient look on its face. "Alright, alright," Ron said, coming forward to untie the owl's message. As soon as it was free of its burden, the bird took to the sky once more, but not before biting his finger hard enough for it to bleed. "Good riddance, bloody bird," Ron muttered as stuck his finger in his mouth and broke the letter's seal to read:

_Dear Ron,_

_How is your summer going so far? It is odd, isn't it, being back after all that has happened. I just finished reading Dumbledore's obituary in the Prophet yesterday. I cried for almost an hour. My Mum and Dad asked if I wanted to see a therapist (that's a muggle doctor you visit to talk out your problems with). I actually laughed at the idea. Can you imagine? "So, what's bothering you?" "Oh, nothing, I just lost the headmaster of my school. He was killed by my evil DADA and formerly potions professor. Yeah, and now I'm about to set out on a suicide mission with my two best friends to kill a psychopathic mass murdering wizard who did unspeakable things to keep from dying. And now he's trying to take over the world and enslave all the the muggles and muggle-borns." Can you imagine the amount of memory modification that that poor man would need?_

_Speaking of memory modification, I am going through with my planned wipe of my parent's memories in three days. Three days. I can barely be in the same room with them now. I know that I should be savoring my time with them. It is likely I won't see them ever again after three days time. But it all just feels so surreal, like they are already gone. At this point I just want to go because it hurts too much to try and hold on. I already have everything packed (actually I never even unpacked). I'm ready to leave at the drop of a hat. I don't feel safe for myself let alone them. Somehow I feel like being back in the wizarding world will fix that. With things heading the way they are, I don't think I will be welcomed there for much longer. _

_I'm scared, Ron. I love Harry like a brother, but what if he isn't ready? What if we are on this hunt for years? What if they find my favorite cousin Jocelyn and torture her about my whereabouts? I can't hide them all! Or worse! What if something happens to any one of us and we fail? What will happen to all the muggles and muggle-borns? What will happen to our families? I know we are supposed to be strong for Harry. The world is on his shoulders. But I am terrified. Terrified of losing you._

Ron's heart stopped as he re-read those last four words five different times. Basking in the fact that just hours before she had written them about him. After a moment, he read on:

_I have missed you like mad this summer. I know this sounds a bit sappy, but I am glad at least that I will be with you when all of this ends, for better or for worse._

_With Love,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. There is a charm (similar to the one on the Marauder's Map) that conceals the true contents of this letter to anyone but you. That is why I have been so frank. I know that your mail is being searched. If you reply, please don't forget to cast this charm on your letters as well. The incantation is _tergum ex totum_. Think of me when you say it and the charm will only reveal to my touch. I look forward to your next post._

Nerves were pumping adrenaline through his veins, so fast that he was sweating. The letter was shaking in his hands as he read. Reality was setting in. War was knocking on his door and his the hard truth of it was resting on his shoulders nearly bucking his knees. Hermione would be here in a little over three days. She was about to put her parents into hiding. They were really going to do this.

Yet he couldn't stop his heart from pounding as he read the last part of her letter. She missed him as much as he missed her. She had admitted it. After all that had happened Things were looking up for them, even in the chaos of the world.

After reading the letter for the seventh time, he set it aside and rifled through the top drawer of the small desk in the corner of his room. Finding a decent scrap of parchment he dipped his quill into a small bottle of ink and replied:

_Dear Hermione,_

_Summer here is going slow. Mum is trying to help Bill and Fleur plan their wedding in a little less than a month. Ginny is going mad with the two of them. Ever since Bill's accident Mum and Fleur have been tighter than two bowtruckles in a pod. It is bizarre. I have been mostly hiding and trying to study._

_Before you have a heart attack, I haven't gotten very far. I am rubbish at studying and always have been. I just can't focus. The more I read the more the words get turned around a mashed up. But I am managing. I think I've narrowed it down to three or four spells. I just need to practice them on a few of the chickens in the garden before I do them on the ghoul. Don't want to risk killing him, you know?_

_Don't worry about your mum and dad. After the war, you and I will personally fetch them and put them right. I am sure of it. And as for Harry, that boy couldn't die if he tried. He will win out._

_I can't wait to see you. I miss you too. Do you want me to apparate to you, you know, after you do it? If not I could just wait for you outside the wards they put up around the Burrow._

He paused for a moment, staring at the bottom of the letter. For a moment he didn't know how to sign it. He put the feather tip of his quill to his mouth before signing,

_Always Yours, _

_Ron_

Satisfied with his response, he tapped the paper with his wand, muttering _tergum ex totum _thinking as hard as he could of Hermione. To his great surprise, when he looked down at the letter, instead of reading what he had written only moments before, the page appeared to be a simple wedding invitation. "Bloody brilliant, 'Mione!" he exclaimed. Hurriedly, he tied the note to Pig's leg and set off toward the barn with his book tucked tightly under his arm.

* * *

"Thank you for coming," Hermione whispered, moving back to allow Ron entry into her childhood home. Her eyes searched the neighborhood briefly before she quietly closed the door. At two in the morning, she was sure that everyone must be asleep, but her nerves were so frazzled that the movement of a late night prowling cat rustling in the bushes made her jump.

"No problem," Ron whispered in a low voice.

A small whining sound escaped Hermione as she closed the space between them throwing her arms around Ron's neck. He pulled her close to his body and buried face in her hair. "How are you holding up?" He asked.

She pulled back and look up into his eyes, heartbreak dancing in her gaze. "If I don't do this soon, I won't."

Ron nodded. "Do you need my help?"

"No, I slipped them each a dreamless sleep potion, it should be fairly straightforward."

Ron followed her through the sitting room and up a flight of stairs, his wand out and lit. If the circumstances had been any different, Ron would have found himself in awe at the size and richness of the house. Clearly the Grangers did well for themselves. The house was open and airy, decorated with rich fabrics and fancy do-dads that had no other purpose than to look pretty. Still photos stared down at him with their blank smiles chronicling the life a dearly loved and doted on daughter. It was all so foreign and different that he wanted to wander around and touch things. These things, this place, was here normal and she was about to wipe it all away.

They stopped at the top of the staircase and Hermione faced the first door on her left. Her wand felt heavy in her hand as she slid open the door and began muttering slowly under her breath a fierce look of concentration on her face. A shimmering light ghosted towards the motionless forms buried beneath the thick duvet. She stood there for nearly half an hour before the couple on the bed too a deep inhaled breath and long sigh.

Suddenly Hermione turned around and made her down the hall. Her face was set and blank, like she was doing laundry as opposed to erasing her muggle existence. She stopped at the door to another room, opened it and began waving her wand. Ron only caught a glimpse of muggle unicorn posters and a princess-like canopy bed before it began to change under her ministrations. By the time she set off down the hall and began flicking her wand at the pictures, the room looked more like a bland guest room. As she worked her way through the house, Ron marveled in the power behind her lazy flicks, watching her closely for signs of breaking. She held strong, finally lowering her wand as they once again reached for the door knob.

"Did you get everything?" Ron asked, barely trusting his own voice.

Hermione simply nodded and reached for his hand. Together the apparated into the night, leaving behind nothing but a slight disturbance in the air.

* * *

A soft tingling sensation touched them as they passed through the wards a few thousand feet from the edge of the Burrow's garden wall. Ron never let go on their arrival, feeling Hermione's resolve breaking the closer they came to his family's house.

Just as they passed the large oak tree before the garden wall, Hermione's knees gave way beneath her as the stony mask she had created for herself dissolved. Ron almost didn't catch her as she tumbled slowly to the ground in a heap. He had seen Hermione cry before—he had even been the reason for it on a few occasions—but the despair on her face as she wept into his shoulder this time scared him. She looked like a person who would never be happy again. Unsure of what to do and afraid to say the wrong thing, he simply held her, gently brushing her hair with his fingers, making soft noises of comfort. He was sure that Harry would have been better in a situation like this. He quickly quashed that thought and the jealousy that went with it.

She had asked him to help her tonight, not Harry. That had to mean something, right?

After what felt like hours, her gasping sobs began to lighten and finally cease. Ron took out his wand and attempted to conjure a handkerchief for her, but it ended up turning into a pink tea towel. Such a disappointed look passed over his face that Hermione let out a small chuckle as she took it and dabbed at her eyes and nose. A smile quirked at the corners of his lips at her smile. "Sorry 'bout that," he said softly, "Guess that one could use a little work."

She smiled again, for once not telling him that if he had moved wand a little more that way or changed the accent on a certain part of the spell, the results would have been better. Instead, she settled for looking slightly embarrassed at her outburst of emotion. "Thank you, you know, for being there." Her voice trembled once more and he feared she might fall apart again, but her composure held.

"I would do anything for you, 'Mione." His response was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He could feel his face burn at the admission.

She looked up and met his eyes, a light flickering behind them. However the next words that came out of her mouth took him by complete surprise. "Why did you date Lavender?"

"Beg pardon?" He asked not sure he had heard her correctly.

"Why did you date Lavender? I thought after I suggested Slughorn's Party and all that maybe we..." she trailed off at the look of shock on his face. In hindsight, maybe not the right time for the question, she thought, blushing furiously at his lack of response.

It took Ron a moment to process the giant leap that the conversation had just taken. "Er...well..." he stammered. He was having trouble thinking clearly about the events that had lead to his—er—relationship with the annoying girl in their year. "I guess there were a load of reasons at the time, but now it all seems rather hazy."

"Is it because of the Felix Felicis?"

"What? No!"

"Because I always knew you could win."

"I know that." The conversation was turning highly uncomfortable, and he knew he had to say something quick. Expressing his feelings about girls was still new to him, however, and it was taking him a while organize his thoughts so he didn't sound like a complete idiot—a line he was already threatening to cross. Then he remembered the catalyst for the whole thing and looked away, not wanting to admit it.

Hermione saw the dawning of realization and put her finger under his chin, forcing him to look at her. "Tell me?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "It was Ginny."

"Ginny?" Hermione looked confused. "What does Ginny have to do with Lavender?"

"Well, Harry and I caught her in the corridor snogging Dean and she said that I was too uptight and that you had snogged Krum so I out to Snog someone. I hadn't planned on it being Lavender, but when you said all that about the Felix Felicis I was so—I dunno—mad that when she kissed me, I just let her. I was a right git, though," He added quickly.

He watched her look up at him with relief. "Really?"

"Well, yeah." He could have kicked himself for having Lavender. It had taken him twice as long as it should have to get Hermione to look at him like that. In that instant, he wished he could redo everything. Silence fell between them interrupted by the occasional rustling of gnomes going about early morning business. Both seemed to be trying to gather courage to go on, but neither could manage it just yet.

"Ron?" Hermione began again.

"Yeah?"

"I never really snogged Krum."

His eyes snapped up to hers. "But Ginny said..."

She blushed and looked down. "Yeah well, I did kiss him once or twice, but it was never on the caliber of what you and Lavender did. There was no tongue or anything. I mean he tried once but—"

But the words never left her mouth. Ron suddenly suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. They felt warm and soft beneath his, not as pouty as Lavender's, but they seemed to fit perfectly against his. He wanted to taste her so badly, had wanted to for so long, but just before she could respond, he pulled back, desperate to gauge her reaction. She didn't slap him, so that was a good sign. Instead, she simply looked at him, wide eyed, her hand had snaked up to touch her lips as if she could feel his there still. Ron waited on baited breath, waited for the rejection, but praying it wouldn't come.

He was just about to stand when suddenly Hermione reached forward and knotted her hands into his hair, pulling her lips back to his. Fireworks exploded behind Ron's eyes as he automatically wrapped his arms around her pulling her forward. She opened her mouth lightly letting her tongue gently play with his, battling each other physically instead of verbally for the first time. The seemed to fit so perfectly, their rhythm neither sloppy nor over zealous. A shiver ran through him, sending a burning though his gut, lighting him on fire from the outside in. It was only as a need for air became forefront that they broke apart, both gasping, still clinging to one another, marveling at one another's sheepish grins and lust filled eyes.

"Wow," Ron whistled, leaning backwards into the tree.

"Really?" Hermione asked with a smile sneaking across her lips. She had always worried that if she ever kissed Ron if he would compare her to the only other person he had ever kissed.

Unfortunately for Hermione, Ron's thoughts at her question gave rise to his own insecurities. "It was wow, wasn't it?" He asked, his previously blissful face now draw with uncertainty. "I mean..."

"No, no!" she said, holding up her hands defensively. "I mean it was wow for me, I was just..." Her voice trailed off as she blushed, sitting back on her heels.

"You were just?" he prompted.

"I—well—its stupid really."

"Hermione?" Ron couldn't take this. Was she going to tell hims he was rubbish? He didn't think he could handle being compared to Victor Krum. "Bloody hell, woman, spit it out!"

"Don't curse at me, Ronald!" She snapped before looking down at her hands before continuing, "I just never heard you say anything like that after kissing—"

He didn't even let her finish her thought. Instead, he reached forward, tangling her hands in her brown curls once more as he pulled her into another searing kiss. Only once he pulled back, did he smile at her, almost laughing at her absurdity. "Are you daft?"

That stung a bit. "Ron..."

"Hermione, look at me!" He force her gaze to his, enjoying the idea that for once he seemed to have a better handle on the situation than she did. "Compared to you, Lavender is nothing. She could never hold a candle to that kiss! I mean, you saw what _almost_ kissing you did to me a couple years back." He reddened at the memory. "Well, that _never_ happened with her."

Hermione looked up into his eyes, searching for the truth. A small smile spread across her face. "Really?" Her voice was airy and breathless.

Not responding, he stood and pulled her into a huge hug. "Let's head in. It's late."

Nodding happily against his chest, they both slowly trudged their way to the familiar crooked house.

* * *

Everything was silent in the house as they crept up the stairs. Mixed emotions were swimming through Hermione's head as she stumbled along her hand clutched tightly in Ron's. Part of her felt full to the bursting point, as if everything she could have ever dreamed of was real. Reaching up she touched her lips, a small smile spreading across her face. She could almost still feel the ghost of his lips pressed to hers.

Then pain tainted the fringes of her memory, forcing their ugly way back through her mind. She cringed, slightly hesitating as she remembered the evening's previous events.

"Hermione?" Ron whispered into the darkness his voice heavy with concern. She loved it when he used her full name like that.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" The word had left her mouth before the thought clicked. But she needed him, needed to feel okay about earlier, needed to feel the warmth that his presence brought.

_Did I just hear her right?_ Ron thought, blinking a few times before responding by simply nodding.

They made their way through the house, carefully casting silencing charms around them before making their way up the creaking steps to the small attic bedroom above. It was probably the latest she had ever been in the blazing orange room several of the Chudley Cannons posters were sleeping soundly within the confines of their paper edges. She smiled at the splay of transfiguration books scattered over his bed, opened or with multicolored bookmarks sticking out at different angles. She could even see rolls of parchment filled with notes before he pushed them off and under the bed with a flick of his wand. With another flick, he mumbles another silencing charm and locked the door before turning to her with a concerned look on her face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, cupping her cheek gently in his hand, marveling at the feel of her soft skin, loving the fact that he could just reach out and touch her.

"Can you kiss me again?" Just like before the words were out of her mouth before she could think. The impulsiveness of it made her heart pound with excitement and fear. Then his lips were on hers. This time she was taking control of the kiss, her tongue dancing with his frantically. Need and hurt leaked into the kiss, all of her feelings about the night floating into him as she pushed him back until his knees buckled against the bed forcing him to sit. Without breaking the kiss, she straddled his lap, pressing her whole body to his, drinking in the feeling of his hands running up and down her back, so big against her frame. She could feel the effect she was having on him and it made her want it even more than ever.

"Hermione," Ron gasped, breaking the kiss his eyes widening as her hands snaked their way under the hem of his shirt and up the bare skin of chest. Her lips found his once more before trailing down his neck in a way that almost made him forget the thin strand of a thought that was blossoming in his head. Before he could go on, however, she was pushing his shirt over his head. The gleam in her eye made him shiver when she pulled back. "Hermione!" he tried again.

Again she brought her lips to his, guiding his hand under her shirt and over something soft and covered in satin.

"Bloody hell," he whispered. He couldn't help it. This was her breast. Something he had been dreaming—nay fantasizing—about touching for years and she had initiated it!

"You like?" she purred, watching him give it an experimental rub.

He nodded mutely.

"Well then I suppose you will like this even more." With the flick of her wrist, she unhooked the snap causing the satiny surface to slacken. Then, with what can only be described as skill, she pulled both her bra and her shirt over her head, exposing the smooth round flesh beneath.

Ron's jaw literally dropped. He couldn't find words. She was absolutely beautiful. Not too big, not to small, just able to fit in his hands. Something like a warning was firing off in a distant corner of his mind. This was too good to be true. He had worked so many years just to get to a point where he could kiss this woman and now she was bearing it all to him without any provocation.

But then she pulled him into a kiss once more, pressing her breasts against him. Bare skin met bare skin. Thought ceased. He let his hands roam, trying to memorize her feel in case he woke and it was nothing more than a cruel dream. His lips left hers, wandering down the milky plain of her neck before coming to her already hardened nipple. He stopped just before he got there, taking a moment to look at her once more. "Merlin, you're gorgeous!"

A husky laugh escaped her throat that quickly turned into a moan as his lips made their goal. "Oh, yes," she gasped.

He broke contact at her words, pulling back and looking into her eyes, black with lust. "You like that?" he asked playfully.

Instead of answering, she pulled his lips back down to their previous position, moaning once more. Deftly he moved to her other breast, loving the taste of her and the way her body moved against his.

"Yes, Ron!" she gasped as his hands found the zipper to her jeans and began struggling with them distractedly as he continued to accost her breasts. "Please, make me forget."

Ron froze, his hand just having succeeded in loosening her belt. _Ding ding ding! We have a winner!_ the voice that had been crying out telling him something was amiss said triumphantly.

After realizing he had stopped Hermione looked down at him, annoyed. "Why'd you stop?" Her voice was rough with their unshared sex making him groan with frustration at what he now had to do.

As gently as possible, he moved her off of his lap and turned so they were facing one another, trying desperately to ignore the look of rejection spreading across her features as well as the urge to stare at her still uncovered chest. "I am truly going to hate myself for this in the morning," he muttered looking her in the eyes.

"Ron, what is it?" she asked, looking on the edge of panicked flight. "Did I do something wrong?"

"God no, Hermione! It's just..." he trailed off, kicking himself for mustering up a fit of nobility worthy of Harry.

"Just?"

"Don't you reckon we are doing things a bit fast? I mean with what happened tonight with your parents and all..."

Suddenly, Hermione jumped on him once more, this time burying her head in the crux of his neck, tears streaming down her face. He was so stunned, he simply patted her back awkwardly. "R-ronald B-b-ilius W-w-weasley," she gasped.

He couldn't help but feel fear every time anyone said his full name. Now was no different. "Yeah?" he asked timidly.

"I am t-trying to have s-s-sex with you and you j-j-just t-turned me d-d-d-down!"

He chuckled at the absurdity himself as she banged her fist pathetically against his chest. "You know me, completely mental."

She laughed into his neck before pulling away, tears still tracking down her smiling face.

_Can't be too bad if she's smiling,_ he thought.

"That is the m-most absurd and most decent thing you have ever done!" She shook her head and said the only other thing that could make his heart soar. "I love you."

He pulled her into another kiss—though admittedly less heated with no less passion. "Still, you sound surprised!" he laughed, not returning her sentiment with words. Not yet, but soon.

For a moment they simply held one another as her tears began to lessen into nothingness and Ron feared she might have fallen asleep."Er, Hermione?"

"Ron?"

"Maybe you should get dressed and head down to Ginny's room before my resolve breaks."

She laughed once more, summoning her clothes. "You're probably right."

He watched her dress, unable to keep a forlorn look from his features as she rose to go. Just as her wand clicked the lock on the door, he spoke up one last time, "Hey, you know, if you, you know, want to come back. I won't fight you."

She chuckled once more, already halfway through the door. Bringing her hands to her lips she blew him a kiss and smiled. "Goodnight, Ronald."

Ron cursed himself once more as he looked down at himself and began unzipping himself to take care of the state she had teased him into. "I really am mental," he said aloud to himself, letting his mind wander back to only moments before a smile spreading across his face.

* * *

**Post A/N:**** Okay, here's the big 'Yay!' moment for Ron! he got to turn down Hermione for something instead of the other way around! **

**Thank you to all of you who have favorited/watched/reviewed. More reviews means a happier me and faster and longer updates!  
**


	6. Heartbreak Visits

**A/N: First off, soooo sorry that this took so long. I wanted to get a few chapters down so I could start posting more at a time. It also took me a long time to get this one to work. I'm still not sure if it is rubbish. Anyway, this is a break from the fluff and a dive into angst. The first takes place a little bit before Ron leaves in DH. The second part is a Hermione-dealing-with-Ron-being-gone bit. Lastly is a little Ron/Bill talk while Ron is at Shell Cottage. I've never written Bill before so it was an adventure. Feed back on that would be greatly helpful!  
**

**On that note, a big THANK YOU to all of you who have stuck with me and reviewed/favorited! You guys fuel me, so keep 'em coming!**

**Without further ado...  
**

Light in the tent flickered ominously sending their shadows dancing eerily across the stretches of white canvas swaying gently in the cold night air. Hermione could feel the physical warmth flooding through her body after having been out on watch as well as the warmth flow back into her soul after ridding herself of the wretched locket once more. Getting up from the table, she began clearing away the nights meal. It had been a good night. Ron and Harry had taken the invisibility cloak into a muggle town and nicked a few groceries. It was the first dementor-free town they had come across in weeks. It was a rare and she planned on saving every crumb in hopes that she could stretch it as far as possible.

A familiar set of arms snaked around her waste as she stared thoughtfully at the empty canvas of Phineus Nigellus Black. She leaned back basking the feel of Ron's warmth. For just a moment, she let her heart soar. For a moment, she forgot that Harry was just ten feet away, that they were on a so far nearly fruitless hunt to take down what seemed an unstoppable force, that people were dying. For just one moment, She privately reveled in the sanctuary of his touch, a touch that came so rarely.

A sudden scuffling noise outside the tent that signaled what was surely Harry's return from relieving himself in the woods, startled her out of her revere. She pulled away, chastising herself for allowing the closeness. "Ron..." she trailed off.

Ron looked at her, slight anger leaking traitorously onto his face. It was then that she saw the locket in question dangling from his neck. "I hate this," he whispered bitterly, running his hands through his hair and retreating to one of the camp beds.

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Full stomach or not, dealing with Ron wearing the Horcrux was never a picnic. She crossed the room, pausing briefly to cast the _muffliato_ charm at the door as she went. She grimaced at the thought of cutting Harry off like this, but she knew that Ron's ability to spout off mean things when angry combined with the way that Harry always took those things stubbornly to heart made for a bad night no matter how old they were. She pondered briefly if she should sit next him on the bed. After a moment's consideration, however, she decided that standing might be safer.

"Ron," she started, "I know this is hard on you. It's hard on me too! But we both agreed—"

"I know, I know!" He cut her off. "We can't let Harry know about us." He mimicked her voice repeating the word that had been their mantra over the last few months. "'_It would be awkward. He already feels alone. No sense in putting anymore strain on the situation than their already is.' _I know the argument already, alright, but I still bloody hate it."

Standing had definitely been a better idea as had the privacy charm. She tried and failed not to recoil from the hurt at his harsh impersonation of her. "I know," she whispered, allowing her weight to carry her down until she was sitting cross legged in front of him on the cold canvas covered earth. "I hate it too."

"Right," he scoffed. "I'm sure that when you and the_ 'Chosen One' _are up all night going over the same bloody things about those bloody horcruxes you are _really_ bent up about us." He smiled a bit at the shocked look on her face as he continued, "I see how you two look at each other. It makes me bloody sick! And you are _always_ taking his side. He doesn't fucking know what he's doing, Hermione, and you are right there, giving in to his delusions!"

"I am _not_ giving into his delusions, Ronald!" she spat back. She couldn't help it, horcux or not, he was being a right arse. "As for being with Harry and researching, that is what we are supposed to be doing, Ronald! That is the reason we are here! We came to help him because we know that he is the only one who can beat You-know-who! Until that happens, we can't even be together the way we want to. I'm doing this for us."

"Riiiiight," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

She couldn't handle this any longer. Standing on her knees so she was face to face with him, she pulled the wretched locket over his head and hung it safely on the bedpost and pulled him into a searing kiss. She only prayed that Harry wouldn't walk in and see that she was not only putting the horcrux in a vulnerable position, but snogging Ron senseless. When they broke apart, tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. "I have been waiting for you since fourth year, Ronald Weasley," she said through gritted teeth. "If you ever say anything like that again, I swear I—I will," she searched her head for a proper threat, "I will hex your bits off."

His face paled as he took in the seriousness in her voice. "Blimey, 'Mione." He sat back on the bed, running his hands through his increasingly shaggy hair, and groaned aloud. "I'm sorry," he conceded, letting himself fall back on the bed.

Standing, Hermione gave in and sat next to him and began running her fingers through his hair. His eyes were wide as if he had just come back from the edge of death fully intact.

"I don't know what's happening to me," Ron whispered from behind his hands. "I think I'm going mad. When I'm wearing that—that _thing—_it feels like you are both against me. It's like _He's_ in my head, making all of the bad thoughts floating in the corner of my mind come to the front. I just get so _angry_!" Tears were welling up in his eyes. "I can't bloody handle it and I feel so weak!" he said through gritted teeth. "I want this bloody hunt to be over. I want to be rid of it."

"I know, love," Hermione whispered. "I would be lying if I said this is what I had expected would happen. Feared, maybe. Harry does tend to follow his gut to a level of madness. This time it feels like his gut is as lost as he is..."

Ron nodded. "I mean, I thought it would be like before, you know? Where everything would just fall into place and it would be over and we could be home for Christmas tea."

"I just thought maybe Dumbledore would have told Harry a bit more. Like maybe there was more to the plan. I hate being out here with nothing. I feel like we are wasting time."

"Exactly."

Hermione looked down at her lap, guilt washing over her that she had just admitted such things aloud. "Maybe we are just imagining things," she corrected. "Maybe we just need to search harder."

Ron let out a bitter bark of a laugh. "Maybe Dumbledore never expected us to succeed."

"Don't say that!"

"You can't tell me you haven't been thinking it too!"

She looked back down at her lap once more, wringing her hands nervously. "I don't know what to think, honestly." Her eyes traveled t meet his once more, a fierce determination driving her. "I just know that I love you and I need you to stick with me and we need to stick by Harry. I'm sure that he is the key to ending all of this."

Ron smiled softly, kissing her on the forehead. He took a deep breath and pulled her tight to him, loving the way she felt against him. "I love you," he whispered.

Her fingers briefly clutched at his back and she pulled back smiling. "Really?"

Framing her face with her hands, he looked deep into her eyes. "Really." With that, he let her go, taking the horcrux from the bed post and, looking as if he had aged ten years, put it back over his head. "Now, I'd better try and rest, I've got next watch."

Nodding, Hermione stood and went to deal with the growing pile of laundry in the corner of the tent with the flick of her wand.

* * *

Hermione felt like she couldn't breath as she flicked her wand uselessly at a pile of toadstools attempting to turn them into something a little more edible. She didn't know why she even bothered to try. The best she ever succeed in doing was making them more rubbery in texture and taking away a _tiny_ bit of the poisonous effect. At worst on the other hand...

"Damn!" she swore, waving her hand at the useless pile of now blackened mushrooms. That was the third time this week. She sighed in frustration. Her maginc had always been spot on before! Why was this happening to her?

"It's alright," Harry assured her, a grimace on his face as he tried—and failed—to smile it away. "I wasn't really hungry anyhow." At that moment, his stomach gave a loud growl. He grimaced again, color rising in both of their faces. Trying to ignore the awkwardness, he stood and made for the door, stopping halfway there. "I'll need your wand. I'll take first watch."

She nodded and handed her wand over, unable to find her voice as she stared at the charred remains of what had been their dinner. That was no surprise, though. She rarely ever found her voice anymore.

The tears were coming, she could feel them welling up inside her like flood of pain filling her with emptiness, like someone had taken a great scoop and hollowed out the place where her heart should have been. Running to the loo, she pushed the door open and spilled the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Tears poured down her cheeks as she collapsed against the side of the bowl covering her mouth to keep from crying out. For one moment, she allowed herself the pain, let the heartbreak take over as she fell apart.

Hermione berated herself for her weakness. Why should she, Hermione Granger, be crying this much over a _boy_! There had been times when they hadn't spoken before. He was _Ron_ after all. She was a Gryffindor! She had to put on a brave face. So, after a few minutes she stood, examining her gaunt and haunted face in the mirror, willing it to smile, bun only managing a small quirk of her lips.

_It's just Ron_, she thought., trying to sound confident in her head.

Just thinking his name, however, caused something to break inside of her, like an already rickety bridge letting loose and spilling her into a canyon that she couldn't see the bottom of. For in that moment, she realized why it hurt, the reason that had been staring her in the face the who time.

He wasn't _just_ Ron.

For one brief shining moment, he had been _her _Ron...

* * *

"We're home," Bill said, after knocking lightly on the door and entering the small bedroom. He leaned against the door frame, worry lines creasing his forehead as he looked at his youngest brother. The boy looked haggard, despite being slightly less thin than he had been months ago when he had showed up on their doorstep. Despite he and Fleur's constant attempts at getting him to talk, he was resolutely quiet. The only words he spoke were usually one or two answers to questions like "Are you sure you have enough blankets?" or "Are you hungry?". The most they had managed to get out of him was when he had asked them not to let the rest of the family know he was there.

Bill had respected Ron's privacy for a long time; but tonight, after seeing his mother's worry over her youngest son, he had decided it was time to break the silence and either get him back with Harry or into their Mum's arms. He walked more into the room, and closed the door with a snap loud enough to make one of the seashell covered picture frames on the wall fall to the ground and crack.

Jumping at the noise, Ron turned a brief look of surprise breaking through his usually blank expression. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the younger of the two turned his eyes back to the setting sun visible through the lacy curtains.

"Ron." Bill's voice was so commanding Ron spared his brother a quick glance before sitting on the soft bed covered in a soft sea foam green coverlet. He had known this had been coming, but it didn't make him feel any better about having to confess what he had done. After all, he couldn't go on not talking to the man that had been so nice as to put him up in his brand new cozy cottage. Another pang of guilt crushed him as he remembered that somewhere out there, Harry and Hermione were sleeping with those scratchy wool camp blankets. He cringed and looked down at his hands. He wanted Bill to leave. He hoped that if he said nothing, Bill would eventually and he wouldn't have to say anything.

As if reading his thoughts, Bill said, "We need to talk and no amount of keeping your bloody mouth shut is going to make me leave." He looked at Ron's back ferociously. "I have been lying for you for well over two months now. I deserve at least a bit of an explanation or I'm going to tell Mum where you are."

Ron continued looking at his hands and saying nothing, knowing the emptiness of Bill's threat.

The muscles on Bill's jaw tightened. He didn't want it to go this way, but Ron had always been more stubborn than the others. "Fine," he began. "How about I tell you what I think happened, and you can just stop me if I get it wrong." He paused hoping in vain for an answer, but all he got was more silence. "Something happened with you and the other two. You got mad and stormed off. The snatchers caught you and you somehow got away and decided to come here because you knew that if you went back to the Burrow that the twins and Mum and Dad and most of all Ginny would rip you to pieces if they knew what you had done. Which, given what's going on and what everyone expects Harry is up to, is spot on." Ron cringed again at the mention of his best mate's name, but Bill plowed onward. "So, you come here—which is fine you know you are always welcome—and proceed do absolutely nothing to get back to them, even though I can tell you want to. You just sit here and stare out the window and—"

"Don't you think I would go back if I could?" Ron cut him off harshly, a few tears falling down his cheeks. "I wanted to go back the second I left! I can't bloody _find_ them! No one can, but I suppose that is the point of concealment charms, now isn't it." He scrubbed at his cheeks, hating the fact that tears had finally broken through.

"Can I ask what happened?" Bill ventured more gently this time, surprised. It had been years since he had seen Ron cry. The boy was usually tough as nails.

Shame darkened Ron's face again. "It was just not like I thought it would be. We were getting nowhere and every day..." He could feel his throat tightening a bit. "It just got harder and harder. We would bicker and then I heard about Ginny and that bloody sword and I just snapped. I was mad with worry about all of you. I'd had no news and I felt like both of them didn't care about that, they were just so concentrated on the mission. I could see them get closer."

"Who get closer?"

"Harry and Hermione. And I know it sounds daft, but—"

"Damn right it sounds daft," Bill said chuckling. "That girl had never had eyes for anyone but you, you sod."

Ron looked up at his brother in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Hermione, she loves you, mate. She and Harry are the closest thing to brother and sister I've ever seen. She gets him, yes, but she is not in love with him. And as for being hard, well, whatever it is you are doing is bound to be important and those things are never easy."

"That's what she said," he said, surprising himself with how much it hurt to hear her name again.

"Smart girl, that Hermione."

Ron looked down. "Yeah." He took a moment before continuing, "I said some really awful things and I left, got caught by the snatchers, and now I don't know how to get back."

Bill thought for a moment. "Have you tried to go back to the last place you lot were?"

"Wouldn't do much good. We moved all the time. That's how we kept from getting caught."

Bill waited for a second, curiosity building inside of him at hearing even the smallest details about what the three kids Dumbledore had had so much confidence in were doing. He took a deep breath and asked, "Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything else that I could help you with? Maybe if I knew what it is you were up to, I could—"

"There's nothing," Ron cut him off. "It's a mission that Dumbledore entrusted to just Harry and us. Secret's not mine to tell."

Bill nodded, clapping his brother on the back and started for the door. He wasn't sure what else to say. "Good luck, seems hopeless!" didn't sound very encouraging so he settled for, "If there is ever anything I can do, please don't hesitate." As he reached the door, he suddenly remembered something and turned back. "Oh, and Ron? Potterwatch is on tonight. You are welcome to join us."

"Thanks," Ron said, but he sounded suddenly distracted. He was holding Dumbledore's Deluminator in his hand, looking at it as if he had never seen it before. "Bill?" he asked, his voice quivering slightly as a smile spread over his face.

"Yeah?"

"Can you have Fleur pack a few weeks worth of food in a rucksack for me?" he asked, a light seeming to flicker on in his eyes.

"Sure," Bill asked, confused, "Why?"

Ron held up the Deluminator looking thrilled. "I think I just found a way back."


	7. Their Own World

**A/N: Well, faithful readers, I have a treat for you-call it an early Christmas present. I have prepared for you a lemon! Yay! Also, I will try to update before New Years, but I am a dog groomer by day and it is the busy season so I'm not sure if that will happen. But I leave you with this until then! Enjoy (if you are old enough, that is) and leave me a sweet Christmas present review. **

**Thank you to all who have reviewed and favorited/watched. You guys are my fuel! Much love and Happy Holidays!**

**

* * *

**Darkness enveloped Ron, like a blanket, suffocating him in the small sitting room he now shared with Harry. He could hear his best mate talk in his sleep. Not that Harry hadn't always talked in his sleep. Now, however, things were different. Everything he said was in a scary high pitched whisper or the hisses that Ron knew to be parsel tongue. The air around Harry seemed to crackle as his face briefly twisted into a cold mask. Ron stifled a shiver as he watched, fear and concern flooding him. He briefly pondered waking his friend up, but quickly quelled the thought as he remembered his reason fore being awake in the first place.

As quietly as possible, Ron got up from the couch, and tiptoed down the hall. _Lumos!_ he thought hopefully. Instantly his wand tip lit, causing a small smile to spread across his lips. He felt a swelling of pride build in his chest that he had finally managed nonverbal magic even if it was a simple spell. He only hoped he could repeat it when Hermione was around. She would be proud. The thought caused a goofy grin to appear on his face making him look more than a little punch drunk. Taking a deep breath and willing himself not to throw the door open loudly, he grasped the handle of the last bedroom on the left—the one shared by Hermione and Luna—and slowly eased the door open wide enough to slip in.

Immediately, his breath caught in his throat. She looked so beautiful, curled up there, her hair braided neatly down her head. Bruises that were almost faded, stood out in stark relief against her overly pale moonlit skin. He suddenly felt so lucky. The sight of her safe, banished all thought from his head. She was safe. That was all that mattered.

Well, that and the fact that she had invited him here, so he hoped that meant that she was through being angry with him and was ready to make up. At least since the incident at Malfoy Manor they were on speaking terms again.

With even quieter foot steps he crept towards the large canopy bed, cast a _Muffliato _charm in Luna's direction and gently ran his hand down Hermione's arm. Immediately, she jumped out bed, her wand pointed at his throat. Immediately, Ron froze dropping his wand and raising his hands in the air. "Blimey!" he yelped, his eyes wide as his rolling wand cast strange shadows about the room.

Hermione stared at him for a full minute, breathing like she had just run five miles. She looked more than slightly mad as she stood there, her hair falling out of its restraint to frame her fiercely set face. If truth be told, Ron felt slightly scared for a moment, thinking that she had called him to kill him rather than make up. A moment later, however, seeming to finally see who was in front of her, she lowered her wand and clutched at her heart. "Merlin, Ron, you scared me!"

"Sorry," he whispered in relief.

"I could've killed you!"

He chuckled nervously. "Only once," he joked, causing her to swat him upside the head. "Besides, it was your idea for me to meet you at bloody two A.M."

She looked away bending down to pick up his wand and hand it back to him. "I know," she said, sheepishly, blushing furiously. "I just thought you might fancy a walk." The excuse sounded lame even as she spoke it.

Looking down at her, his eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "At two in the morning?"

If possible, she seemed to blush even deeper. "Yes, well, I didn't want to be followed."

Intrigued, Ron shrugged and ushered her towards the door and down the hall. As they reached the door to the sitting room, Harry's unearthly mutterings drifted towards them. Hermione froze in her tracks, looking at once entirely distracted and entirely terrified. "Is he sleeping?" she whispered, staring at the door with frightful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

"Yeah, bloody scary, eh?" Ron said following her gaze. "Did he ever do that while I was away?"

Hermione shook her head, eyes wide. "Does that happen every night?"

"Not until we came here," he explained. "I mean he's always talked in his sleep, but I reckon this is different."

Hermione looked up at him quizzically. "How so?"

"Well, since we got here he's been keeping You-know-who out, you know? Blocking him all the time, just like Dumbledore wanted him to, but I reckon that he can't do that in the night. I'm just hoping that the same goes for You-know-who and he isn't secretly looking in on us. Though I don't think he is. I reckon they are sharing dreams, you know? Since none of it makes any sense."

She looked at him for a full minute, a dumbfounded look on her face. "That's brilliant, Ron!"

He looked down at her with a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. "I have my moments."

With that, she grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the front door, with a look in her eyes that he had seen her wear only when intent on running to the library for a particularly boring book.

* * *

Never in her life had Hermione remembered ever being this nervous, nor this sure about something. The butterflies in her stomach seemed to have morphed into a heard of thundering thestrals, growing more and more rowdy every minute.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Ron asked as they she dragged him over another sandy dune.

She smiled, liking the idea leading him into an unknown place. "You'll see!" she squawked in a voice that she didn't entirely recognize as her own. With another impatient tug, she dragged him further toward their destination only briefly giving their gorgeous surroundings a distracted passing glance.

Ron, on the other hand, was entranced. A million stars were out, stretching from horizon to horizon, painting the inky black sky with varying shades of blue. The moon was nowhere in site and the stars seemed pleased to be able to shine without competition. cool sand squished pleasantly beneath their feet having lost all it's heat from the previous day. Everything about the night seemed perfect. Despite the hour, the normal seaside chill seemed to be missing and after a few minutes both were sweating with the effort of walking barefoot in the sand as a warm salty breeze ruffled their hair.

"It's just over this rise," Hermione said, turning to stand in front of him so sharply that he nearly toppled over her. His hand shot out to her shoulder to steady himself. It was the closest they had been in a long time. Her warmth dulled his senses long enough to delay his movement away from her. After a moment of awkward silence, Hermione stepped away and cast her eyes away. Reaching into her pajama pockets, she pulled out a black blindfold and held it out to him.

Ron looked at it apprehensively. "What is that?"

"This is so you don't spoil the surprise before we have a chance to talk." Reaching up, she pulled the blindfold over his eyes and proceeded to drag him forward once more.

"Surprise?" he said, trying his best to quell the urge to bat the blindfold away.

After a few glances around to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect, she took his hand and led him forward. "If you play your cards right, then yes, there will be a surprise."

Nodding he stood still, listening with all his might.

"Since we left the night of the wedding, we have been running for our lives. We have come face to face with death on more than one occasion and less than a month ago I thought I had lost you for good."

He grimace beneath the mask. "Hermione, I—"

"I know you are sorry," she cut in. "Just listen." She waited for a few more moments before continuing, "When you were gone, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest—like you had taken it with you. I haven't ever hurt that much, ever. I was so disappointed in you. Not only for leaving Harry, but for leaving me when you promised you wouldn't." She could feel tears gathering in her eyes, but she pushed them away. "I never want to feel that way again, not ever.

"I waited for you, but when it had passed a month, I made up my mind that I even if you did return, I wouldn't be able to risk it again."

Ron's face fell, this had been what he was afraid of: her rejection. He wanted to turn and leave that moment, but just as he was about to she spoke again.

"But then, I saw you again, and I felt myself fall all over again. It made me so angry! How could my heart just forgive you? I wanted to _hate_ you so badly. You deserved it." She paused, pulling a lock of his hair from beneath the blindfold. "But I couldn't. I could never hate you, no matter how much I tried.

"Then when we were in that godforsaken manor and I was being tortured. I could hear you screaming my name and I knew. I knew that you felt the same way, that you had missed me too. I needed to let myself be not angry with you and me anymore. I knew in that moment I never wanted to be away from you again and I knew..." she paused, blushing, "that I want to share everything with you now because I could have died and never known you in the way that I need to know you.." She knew she was rambling, so she forced herself to be quiet and let her words sink in.

Ron stewed in confusion for a full minute before giving up. "I'm not sure what you mean. Does this mean that you forgive me and want to be together again?"

She smiled and closed the distance between them lacing her fingers behind his neck and giving him a gentle kiss. "I do forgive you, you git. Just don't ever do that to me again."

Sagging in relief, he returned the kiss and pulled back, still feeling as if he were missing something. "So, what are you saying?"

She felt herself blush at not being able to say it outright. "What I'm saying," she began, "is I want us to take our relationship to the next level because I know that this is real, but I want to know if it is as real for you as it is for me and I need to know that you won't leave again, no matter how hard things get."

"Hermione, I-" he let out a growl of frustration. "I can't do this this way. It is bloody killing me not to see what you are thinking!" Ron said, running his hands down her braid. "Can I please take this ruddy thing off?"

"Not yet," she said, taking a step back far enough so he couldn't touch her.

Heaving a deep sigh, he said, "Alright, but can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Let me talk this time."

Unsure, Hermione, nodded before realizing he couldn't see her. "Alright."

"I love you," he began. "I have loved you for a good chunk of my life now. I know I am the worlds largest prat at times and I don't deserve you. Especially after what I did. But I need you to know it nearly killed me being away from you and was even worse when I found out all that stuff I was afraid might have happened to you almost did happen. Then, at Malfoy's..." his face took on a sickening glow somewhere between illness and rage. "I never wanted to kill someone so much as I did when I heard her hurting you. I didn't want to imagine living without you ever again, especially knowing I couldn't protect you." He turned his head, the muscles on his jaw flexing. "Now, I don't know what you have planned for tonight, but I want you to know, that if we by some miracle happen to make it through this war and Harry manages to take out You-know-who, I plan on marrying you and never letting you even have the chance to slip through my fingers ever again." He blushed profusely. "That is, if you'll have me..."

The next second Ron could scarcely breathe as Hermione launched herself at him and knocked him into a rather large and squashy pile of pillows, finally pulling off his blindfold. Her lips found his and she could feel the thestrals in her stomach quiet as she ran her hands through his hair. "I love you, too, Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said, breaking the kiss and pulling his blindfold off at last. "And yes, I would love to marry you."

Ron looked as if he had just been told that the Chudley Cannons had taken the World Cup. Lights exploded behind his eyes and all of a sudden he couldn't stop kissing her. He couldn't stop grinning. Who cared about the war? He had Hermione Jean Granger and she was going to marry him! He couldn't even pull his eyes away from her to look at his surprise. She was all that mattered and she was his.

"Ron?" she said after several fevered moments.

"Yeah?"

She was done with alluding; it was time to let him know her real purpose for bringing him out at two A.M. "I brought you out so I could your shag brains out. I mean, we could die tomorrow, or be put away for the rest of out lives and never see each other again."

Ron's body responded before his mind could process what she said, making his pajama bottoms show the telltale signs of his arousal. He tried to ignore it for a moment longer, remembering the last time things had gotten heavy between them. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want you to regret this."

She gave a small laugh and lowered her hand, grabbing his member and giving it a soft tug. He hardened painfully beneath her touch. "I won't be turned down twice," she said dangerously, giving him another tug.

Ron concentrated hard on not losing it right then and there. "Are you sure? I don't want to do this if we are doing it just because of the waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...!" But he suddenly found speech impossible as Hermione took his earlobe in her mouth and began giving it gentle suckles. With her free hand, she grabbed his hand and guided him towards her breasts, moaning in his ear as he gave them an experimental rub.

"Technically, we're engaged now, so I don't see the problem," she whispered huskily. "Besides, if you don't take me now, I think I might explode!" As if to prove her point, a low moan escaped her lips as he gently rubber her nipple beneath her thin shirt.

Needing no more encouragement, Ron stole her lips back to his, kissing her in a way he had never allowed himself to. Her hands began fumbling with his shirt and he rolled her over and pulled the tiny strap of her top to expose the breasts he had only seen once before. He marveled in how different this felt, how right it felt. With rough, unpracticed lips, he sucked on her nipples, making sure they were each rock hard before returning to her lips as he slid his hand into her pajama pants.

"Oh!" she cried out in surprise as his fingers brushed the most sensitive part of her.

Ron drew back, looking at her. "There?" he asked, smiling a mischievous grin as he brushed the spot again.

"Oh, Merlin, yes!" she said, grinding her hips into him.

It was his turn to groan as he continued to stroke her, marveling at how wet she was becoming as she writhed beneath him.

"Oh, Ron," she moaned, "I want you inside of me, please!" To add a little more emphasis to her plea, she reach for her wand and banished the rest of their clothing with one swift flick. The heat coming from his throbbing member sent a shiver through her as she happily opened her legs for him.

One last time, he looked up at her, his two brains fighting out one last battle for dominance. "Are you sure?" he panted, looking her in the eyes.

Hermione, however, was done with questions. Placing her hands on either side of his hips she simultaneously thrust her hips upward and buried him to the hilt inside of her.

"Oh fuck!" Ron swore, feeling himself slide into her and push through the barrier of her innocence all at once. He almost lost it once more, but was stayed as he noticed the look on her face. "Did I hurt you?" he managed to choke as he tried to pull out.

"No, don't!" she gasped, holding him to her. "Just give me a second!"

He nodded, bringing his lips back to hers to distract her as he fought with himself, trying not to move even though her tightness was driving him mad.

After a moment, he felt her begin to move, her gasps of pain turning into pleasure as she reached between them and found the place he had been rubbing before. Forcing himself to be slow for her, Ron pulled out and slowly slid back in feeling the heat build in her.

"Faster!" she gasped wrapping her legs around him. Happy to oblige he began to pump for her. Every time he felt her fingers meet their connection, he groaned, becoming a little more reckless as she pounded into her. "Oh yes, Ron!" she yelled for him. "I'm so close!"

Suddenly, her body went rigid around him as spasms began racking her body. One last time, she screamed his name for him and he met her in climax, spilling his seed deep within her before collapsing on top of her, unable to keep himself from squashing her in the process. Breathing hard, Hermione wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed his temple, unwilling to let him go just yet. He seemed too weak to protest.

"Dear God, Hermione," he gasped as he finally had the strength to roll over. "I think you killed me."

She let out a laugh and snuggled up to him, already feeling a twinge of soreness as the euphoria began to fade. "You didn't do so bad yourself," she muttered into his chest.

He laughed and pulled her close running his hands through her now loose hair as he kissed the top of her head. "Always the tone of surprise."

Together Ron and Hermione lay there for a long time. They watched the stars and talked about everything from the plan they had to rob Gringotts, to what it would be like after the war. Both felt more relaxed than they had in ages, comforted by one another's presence and their new found closeness. Time seemed to stand still, as if they were the only people in the world. Far too soon, however, a twinge of light on the horizon signaled the impending dawn.

"Do we have to go back?" Ron groaned, pulling her close to him, grinding his hardening member into her side.

Seeing his best puppy dog face, she couldn't help but laugh. "Unfortunately, yes, we must. We each need a shower before everyone gets up and about."

Grumbling in protest, Ron took the clothes she handed him and began to dress.

Grabbing her once more round the waist, Ron gave her a last long kiss. "I love you," he muttered.

"I love you, too." She smiled. She would never tire of hearing or saying that.

With much lighter hearts, the two lovers began packing up Hermione's surprise (which turned out to be a large blanket, a couple of nicked butterbeers, and a few dozen pillows) and trudged over the dunes and back to Shell Cottage.

Back to reality...


	8. The Chamber of Secrets

**A/N:Okay, okay, shoot me if you will. I am terribly sorry that I didn't get this up sooner. In all honesty, the chapter just wouldn't come to me and I was too busy with my life sit down and force it out. But here it is! Way too late, but hopefully worth it! I think there may only be one or two chapters more (if that). **

**On the bright side, I am going to be revamping my story _The Inevitable_ within the next few weeks and then I will be embarking on some new and exciting projects for you guys after that!**

**Remember to review for me and enjoy reading!  
**

Ron hit the bottom of the pipe with an audible thunk. Everything about the cavernous musty tunnel rang through his memory like a warning bell trying to get him to turn back. He could almost taste the fear on his lips as, for just one moment, he was nothing more than a terrified twelve year old with one best friend petrified in the hospital wing and a sister in the hands of Slytherin's monster. He could almost see his younger self trudging forward into the beyond, not knowing if he or Harry would make it out alive.

Behind him, he heard Hermione tumble gracelessly out of the tube with a groan. He let out a hiss of relief dispelling all of the ghosts of his past and stealing himself to go forward. _It worked out alright_, he reminded himself. He and Harry had saved the day. Hermione had been okay and so had Ginny.

"Bleche! This is disgusting!" Hermione groaned, taking Ron's hand and pulling her wand out to clean off some of the slime she had picked up along the way.

A small smile spread across Ron's lips. "Well, they do get like that, sewers..."

Hermione swatted him on the arm and let her hand follow the length of his arm taking his hand in hers. "Lead the way, oh speaker of tongues."

Ron nodded, suppressing a shudder of a very different sort as he enjoyed the silkiness of her hand in his. _Later_, he thought. _If we play this right, then there will be plenty of laters._

Once they had cleared the enormous snakeskin and the picked their way through the cave in, Ron was mostly guessing at the directions they were taking. He had never actually been into the chamber itself and he prayed that he was going the right direction as he squinted through the gloom by the dim light of his wand. After a few moments, he let out a sigh of relief as as the sight of a large snake encrusted door leaned loomed out of the darkness.

"Well," Hermione prompted, looking around worriedly as if something might jump out at any moment and attack her from behind.

Taking a deep breath, Ron let out a low stream of hisses and despite himself, jumped in surprise when the stone snakes began to writhe and the door swung open. For a moment, Ron thought that Hermione might squeak in excitement the way she had at the entrance to the tunnel. But as they looked closer, the chamber seemed to light itself with a strange eerie glow that illuminated the giant surprisingly intact corpse of the mighty monster of Slytherin.

"Bloody Hell," Hermione uttered under her breath.

Ron's head snapped to her in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Language, Hermione!" he scolded jokingly.

Ignoring him she took tentative steps into the chamber. "Do you, you know, think it is dead?"

"I should hope so. I mean, if an enchanted sword to the brain doesn't do it..."

"But it is so well preserved..." Fear seemed to morph visibly into curiosity as she stepped around the copious amounts of dried blood that spotted the floor (whether from Harry or the snake she didn't know) and knelt next to head of the blinded beast. She peered into it's still opened mouth. "Can you imagine? This thing lived under the school for hundreds of years! Eating Merlin knows what, it survived, only to be killed by a twelve year old. Seems a little surreal, doesn't it?" she said, taking out her wand and delicately removing the poisonous fangs. "I just wish I could could take a bit longer and—"

"Do what exactly? Study it for future generations?" Ron raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Exactly!" Hermione replied excitedly, her face alight with the prospect of new learning. "I mean, the venom from an adult Basilisk has never been successfully harvested. You see, the young, the ones that are most easily spotted due to inexperience, are blinded at capture. Most of them never make it past a hundred and those snakes are only a quarter the size of this one. Upon dissecting even the oldest captive ones, they have never been able extract as much venom as they need. Not to mention that replicating the venom magically for research is nearly impossible. Then, when they find an adult, It often kills it's potential hunters and escapes before anyone is the wiser. There have been a few cases where an older one was discovered dead of natural causes and those ones were over 200 feet long, but the venom sacs—"

"Hermione!" Ron finally cut in after several moments.

"What!"

"As interesting as all this is, they are on the brink of war up there and Harry is counting on us."

Her eyes slowly came back to focus as she tried to stifle and embarrassed blush. "Oh, yes, right!" Transfiguring a rock into a large clothe, she started levitating the fangs safely into place. "Shall we go then?" she asked with the clear edge of hesitation as she bundled the package and began walking towards the entrance.

"Wait!"

Turning, she was surprised to see Ron holding out the small gold cup, his figure dwarfed by the enormous snake and statue in the background. She looked up at him in surprise. How had he even managed to get it out of her bag without her notice? Ignoring the gesture, she made to keep moving. "Like you said, we should—"

"I think you should destroy this one," Ron said, cutting her off.

Her eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean? I thought Harry should. Isn't that why we got the fangs?"

Ron took a few steps forward, his eyes filled with sympathy for the panic he saw dancing across his lover's face. "Yes, for the other three, but I think you've earned the right to destroy this one. I'm sure Harry would agree."

"But I can't!"

"Yes you can! If I can than you can, 'Mione."

Hermione's eyes swam with tears as they settled on the unassuming object. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but the cup seemed shrouded in a darkness much worse than the locket. Just looking at it made her blood run cold as if it knew that she was its destroyer. After what Ron and Harry had gone through destroying the horcruxes they had taken on, she wasn't sure she could. It took all the Gryffindor courage she possessed to nod. "Alright...set it down."

Complying, Ron set down the cup and moved back a few steps. "Just remember, Hermione, it always lies."

Carefully, Hermione pulled out one of the six inch fangs from the pouch, holding it as far from the dangerous tip as possible. Her eyes were glassy with tears completely at odds with her strong stature. With purpose she raised her hands above her head and froze as a smokey black cloud rose from the cup, laughing as it took shape. She quickly made to scramble away, terrified at the site in front of her.

Before her stood not a professor or Tom Riddle or even Ron or Harry. Instead, she was staring at an eleven year old bushy haired witch with over large front teeth and bright red snake eyes. She let out a yelp of surprise at seeing the Horcrux-Hermione staring haughtily down on her with a disappointed look on her face. "Good that you are down on the floor," the horcrux echoed sweetly. "Not much has changed I see."

"Don't listen to it Hermione!" Ron shouted.

The smoke figure glanced at Ron and laughed. "Still beating around that old bush, I see. When are you going to get it through your thick head that he will never love you! Both he and Harry are only friends with you out of pity. I mean look at you! This uncontrollable hair and horrid face! You will never be his ideal! They only kept you around so they could cheat off your school work. There will be nothing left in you for them to use once the war is over. They will toss you aside like the ugly little girl that you are."

"Don't listen! I love you!" Ron bellowed, seeing the hurt in Hermione's eyes.

"Sure he loves you! But how can you love yourself! Always working so hard to get good marks and reading. He won't stick around for long once he sees that you are more in love with your books than you could ever be with him, you ignorant girl. His love would be wasted on an ugly person. He says blood doesn't matter, but he will always see you for what you are: a filthy mudblood. It's sad how you chase after him like a love sick puppy! He will hate you once he finds out that dark ambition to be the best that lurks in your heart. Don't you see that? He is only going to resent you for what you are."

Tears were now rolling steadily down Hermione's face as she looked from the Horcrux to Ron.

"Just do it, 'Mione! You know none of this is true. I love you and you are beautiful and clever and talented!" Ron shouted.

"Clever!" the Horcrux-Hermione laughed. "She only tries to be clever to hide her inadequacies! Deep down she is me! Stone cold and bossy who will drive away any friends she has by nagging them to death!"

"Hermione! Focus on me!" Ron shouted his voice cracking with emotion.

Groggily, her heart sought his as if looking for a life line in a storm she was almost to exhausted to fight. Their eyes locked and she looked at him, no longer paying attention to the Horcrux-Hermione. She searched him struggling to look for the truth hidden by the lies being shouted at her. Staring back, a small smile twitched at the corner of Ron's mouth and he nodded almost imperceptibly. Hermione snapped her attention back to the Horcrux, a resolute look set on her tear-stained grimy face, she launched forward plunging the fang into the cup with all her might.

A wave of black energy threw her back against a statue of a large snake as the Horcrux let out a deafening howl of rage and defeat before releasing a plume of smoke into the air. For a moment, the two just sat breathing heavily, letting the palpable relief of what they had just done wash over them.

Then, breaking out of the trance-like state, Ron looked up and hurried over to Hermione gathering her into a bone crushing hug. "Are you okay?" he whispered into her hair.

Her hands seemed to claw desperately at his worn red jumper as she half-cried/half-laughed before merely nodding in response.

"None of those things were true, love. You are the most amazing person that I have ever met," Ron reassured her quietly.

"I-I didn't ex-expect it to b-b-be me!" she gasped.

At this, Ron laughed aloud. "I take it back, maybe you are a bit thick."

Hermione drew back from him in surprise.

Unabashed he stared back at her hurt-squinted eyes and explained, "You, Hermione Jean Granger, have always been and will always be, your own worst critic. You keep yourself to a set of standards that no one could ever possibly achieve and absolutely refuse to compromise. It is the most beautiful and terrifying thing about you! It is no wonder Ol' Voldy decided to antagonize you with you."

Looking down at her torn jeans, she took a deep breath thinking deeply. After an impossibly long few minutes, she looked up at him with the same searching look she had worn only moments before. "Was it that horrible for you?" she whispered vulnerably.

Ron frowned and looked at her earnestly. "Well in mine, you were bloody making out with Harry..."

Hermione gave him a horrified look.

"Exactly what I thought," he said helping her into as standing position before heading off to gather the remains of the broken cup of Hufflepuff.

Together, they examined the thing, marveling at how different something could feel. It was clearly the same object, yet it was lighter and shinier (despite having a huge hole in the side). Holding it didn't have the same affect. It didn't send goosebumps up their arms or make them angry or scared.

The cup was simply a cup once more.

Pocketing the small object, Ron took out his wand once more and lit it with a quick _lumos_. "So, are you ready to find Harry and finish this thing off for good?"

Looking at the entrance to the Chamber with a growing sense of dread, Hermione stepped in front of Ron and looked up at him. "We could be dead by morning," she whispered sounding more unsure than he could ever remember her sounding.

Nodding Ron pulled her into another hug. "Yes," he said sadly. "But I don't think we will be."

"Why's that?"

"Because after seeing the size of that snake, do you _really_ think that Harry isn't going to win this thing?"

Hermione laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Taking his hand in hers once more, she squared her shoulders and marched resolutely out of the Chamber and into the darkness of the sewers.


	9. Happy Ending

**A/N: Last chapter mates! It isn't long, but I think it brings everything full circle. Hopefully I will be doing some more one shots soon and starting the revamp on _The Inevitable_. Hope you enjoy!**

**Remember to review and favorite!  
**

Ron looked through the wavy glass window of the Burrow's kitchen to the large white marquee in the center of the garden. It looked so similar to the one that had been erected for Bill and Fleur's wedding all those years ago that he couldn't help but suppress a shudder as he looked out at the pristine canvas lit from within by a thousand tiny fairy lights that Hermione had spent hours conjuring just the night before. luckily, he seemed to be the only one to see the correlation. From where he stood, Ron could see people coming and going from the tent, happy smiles on their faces, goblets filled with Madame Rosemerta's finest oak-matured mead clutched in their hands as they joined or left the dance. Music from the Weird Sisters (who Hermione had insisted on hiring, despite Molly's protests that it wasn't proper wedding music) was drifting into the silent kitchen. Beautiful flutterby bushes decorated the outside of the tent, gently swaying in a nonexistent breeze. Everything about it was orderly enough for Hermione's neurotic nature, but chaotic enough to suit Ron's tastes as well.

Hermione had once again outdone herself. It was perfect.

The music's volume raised slightly as the kitchen door opened and closed, calling Ron's attention from his silent musings. A smile broke across his face as Hermione walked in, her billowing muggle wedding dress getting momentarily caught in the door as it closed behind her. "Oh! Merlin, this _thing_!" she cursed, re-opening the door to free the satin of her skirt.

Ron chuckled.

Hermione looked up at him, a mock glare on her face. "Are you spying on people, Ronald Weasley?"

Grinning, Ron crossed the room and shyly took Hermione into his arms, beaming down at her. They had been together for years, but after taking the vows that morning, he almost felt as if there were something new lying ahead of him. The relationship they had shared for years was evolving once more and it was beautiful to behold. Never had Ron seen Hermione look so beautiful. Never had he imagined that he would be lucky enough to hold her in his arms forever.

"Er...Ron?" Hermione prompted after a few minutes of holding his gaze. "Is everything alright?"

Ron chuckled and pulled her into a passionate kiss before pulling back and leaning against the table. "Did you ever picture this all those years ago? Did you ever think we would make it here?"

Hermione's brow creased. "What do you mean? You aren't having second thoughts are you? Because we already said our vows!"

"What? No! That's not what I meant at all!" he cursed under his breath still smiling, he pulled his wife closer to him. "What I meant was, did you ever think we would make it out of the war? Live to see the day when Harry was married to my little sister and expecting a kid and we were standing at the altar of a muggle church getting married? I mean it all feels so surreal."

"I know what you mean..." Hermione mused, her panic dissipated completely. "During the war it almost seemed like we would be fighting forever and we would most certainly die before it was over. Almost like we would fight for ages and never get the happy ending that we worked so hard for."

Ron nodded.

"But we did get it," Hermione continued. "We get to start over! You are done with Auror training and I am fighting the fight for house elves everywhere in a way I _never_ envisioned with S.P.E.W..."

Ron smiled at the mention of the organization she had started so many years ago.

"So I must know. Why are you not out there wearing a hole in the dance floor and looking like an idiot with Harry and the others?"

"I am! I mean I was. I just needed a moment to convince myself that it is not a dream, that I am not going to blink and it will be gone and we will be back in that bloody tent in the middle of bloody nowhere. I just feel so lucky to have you choose me and the thought that I don't have to hold my breath wondering if it will all be taken away by some lunatic is mind boggling. Even after all these years."

Leaning against him, Hermione said nothing but simply let him hold her for a few moments more. The dark shadowy kitchen of the Burrow seemed to slip away as she began to relax into him, her eyes drifting shut.

"No, Mum, I'm fine. I swear!" Ginny's voice sounded from the other side of the door. "It's just this baby is making me have to pee like a hippogriff every bloody hour!"

Ron and Hermione chuckled as they heard Mrs. Weasley's voice carry angrily over the din as she shouted something about "having class at her brother's wedding". Ginny's muttered under her breath as she pushed open the door jumping in surprise to see the guest of honor held up in the kitchen. "Bloody Hell!" she shrieked holding her belly protectively. "You nearly scared the baby out of me! What are you doing in here? You are supposed to be enjoying your wedding reception."

A look of serenity passed over their faces as they looked at one another. "We are," Hermione said pulling Ron in for another heated kiss.

Ginny snorted as the kiss deepened. "Do you two _have_ to do that while I'm standing right here? You should be doing that out there! Where I can watch Harry blush!"

"Don't you have somewhere else to be right now, Potter?" Ron said, glaring at his little sister with mock annoyance.

As if suddenly remembering, Ginny looked at the rickety staircase that led to the bathroom four floors above. "Bloody pregnancy..." she muttered taking the first few steps with a groan. "The Weird Sisters are going to take a break for a few songs so it will be a bit calmer. You two get out there and get everyone scarlet faced by the time I get back. I mean it! I know you've got it in you Ron! I still remember your sixth year!"

Hermione laughed and made to pull away but her new husband pulled her tighter to his chest. "We probably should be getting out."

"I know. Just one more snog."

"Ron!"

"Just one more. Right here." He pointed at his cheek in a move he had seen Fred and George use many a time on girls at Hogwarts.

Hermione withdrew from his arms with a laugh and made it to the entrance. "Come and get me then." Quick as a flash she was out the door with Ron close on her heals.

A sense of completeness fell over them as they reached the dance floor to applause. Ron drew up on Hermione picking her up as she giggled and spinning her around in circles. As they stopped spinning, Ron lowered her and brought his lips crashing down on hers in a heated kiss. Happy for the chance to show off in public and not be scolded by his mother. A loud whoop went up from a the left side of the tent. Charlie, Ron guessed.

"Let's hear it for Mr. and Mrs. Hermione Jean Granger!" Harry shouted, causing everyone to laugh. Slight intoxication always seemed to make him more brave in public settings and more funny. It was probably why George had set an automatic refilling charm on his glass.

"Oi!" Ron shouted back, breaking the kiss. "I'll have you know that it is Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

"No, I think he's right," Ginny piped up from the edge of the tent, looking winded

Ron shot her a rude hand gesture.

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded causing the whole party to erupt into laughter before pulling his attention back to their kiss. She too was having fun kissing the man she had secretly loved since second year in the view of everyone.

"Oi!" Harry shouted, breaking up the kiss once more, his face red. "If you're going to kiss my best mate like that, get a room!"

The comment was clearly directed at Ron, but it was Hermione who responded. "You know what?" she shouted back. "That's the best idea you've had all night!"

And, to the sounds of cheering and surprised laughter Hermione pulled up her skirt to the hip causing everyone to gasp. Laughing she pulled her wand from her garter. "What?" she shouted to the laughing crowd as she winked at Ginny who gave her a thumbs up. Smiling, she pulled Ron in for one last public kiss and apparated the both away, happy to be together at long last with the man she had built a love with over many a stolen moment.

FIN


End file.
